Middle of Nowhere
by Wyolake
Summary: "There is a dead darkspawn on the hood of my car." How one modern man deals with his sudden appearance in Ferelden. Rated T for strong language, violence, and sexual situations. OCs plus the entire ragtag DA:O team.
1. Probably Not Kansas

I never watched _Life on Mars_, but now I'm thinking I should have.

No.

I'm writing this because nothing like this has ever happened to me before.

True, but wrong genre. No.

Middle of nowhere. Lost between universes. Low on gas.

Good use of the line, but no.

The hardest part of starting a story is getting the first line down.

True, but no.

Single white male looking for sanity.

Has potential, although it was true before this happened. Not very pithy. But run with that and see what happens.

If what is real and what is not real are distinguishable, then sanity is the ability to recognize the difference. If the difference is indistinguishable then one's sanity should be questioned, provided one recognizes there's a difference in the first place. Alternatively, if the difference is indistinguishable then the reality with which one is faced should be taken at (ahem) face value, at least until further evidence is available. Of course, that's what leads to things like choke holds, tazing, tranquilizers, restraints, and other things that can be kinkily fun in the right application but usually not when applied by police and orderlies.

So here I am, stuck in a situation that I would have to be crazy to believe I'm actually stuck in. On the other hand, by accepting its true I've finally justified carrying my Swiss Army knife around with me all these years. But on the gripping hand, I'm too old for this shit, and my knee hurts.

Okay. I've read that half a dozen times, and it makes sense. Let's assume that what I'm experiencing is real enough that I need to treat it as such. If th

Okay. Needed some time to calm down and make my writing legible again. I'll back up and go through what happened.

- Left the house.

- Drove to Home Depot.

- Bought what I was after, then remembered to grab A/C filters, too. Paid cash, walked out, and threw it in the car.

- Returned cart.

- Left Home Depot.

- Drove south, heading home. Hit all the lights-

Fucking a. Goddamn snow birds. I had the green at BST and the dipstick in the RV rolled through the light anyway. Now I remember. He wasn't there, but then suddenly he was in front of me. Even with video game reflexes I didn't have time to completely miss him and I caught the right half of my car against his front left corner. I heard a bang; I assume that was the passenger air bag deploying seeing that it's hanging out of the dash. It appears the driver's bag did not deploy. (Knew I should have got it checked per the owner's manual.) But...

The old Outback is not damaged the way I'd expect if I'd hit a RV. Oh, it's got damage all right, but I'll get back to that in a moment. More important is where it is. It should be in the middle of an intersection, not out in the middle of a field next to some old-growth forest. I should be in the same place. But that's not really important right now.

I'm not hurt. At least, I don't think I am. My knee hurts, but that's expected. My neck is a bit stiff and the palm of my right hand is tingling, but that's not really important either.

And the damage? The right front bumper is crunched in a bit, there's a nice dent in the hood, and the windshield is cracked in front of the passenger seat. But even that isn't important.

What is important is that there is a DEAD FUCKING DARKSPAWN on the hood of my car.


	2. Communication Breakdown

Still day 1.

Okay, the existential crisis is over for now, so let's stock of the situation:

- I'm literally in the middle of nowhere with a dead darkspawn on the hood of my car.*

* Yes, a darkspawn from _Dragon Age_.^

^ Yes, the video game.

- I have no clue why this is, but I can speculate.*

* More on that later. For now I'm going back into the existential crisis.

Still day 1.

What are the five stages of dying again? Acceptance is in there somewhere, so that's where I am for now. My sanity may still be questionable, but that's irrelevant; if I don't treat my situation as real I'm going to end like the darkspawn corpse next to my car. At least I was able to loot a crude sword off the thing. Between that and the tire iron I'm reasonably armed.

The car started fine so I moved to some cover, and sat down to think. That didn't get me anywhere. I mean, it didn't matter how I got here; the fact is I'm here. The stink of a dead darkspawn pretty much confirmed that. Why I'm here doesn't really matter right now, so let's put that on hold and figure it out later if I can. When and where are very important, though. I've played through _DA_ a couple of times, and according to canon the only place darkspawn should be running around is in Ferelden. But have I arrived before or after or during the events chronicled in the game? Where in Ferelden am I?

Why here? Why me? Am I that important in the universal/multiversal scheme of things that I get transported _in toto_ (along with a 1996 Subaru Outback [OTOH, maybe it's not me that's important; maybe it's the Outback.]) to a universe that exists in my home universe as a video game? I don't have a problem with this universe existing; what I have a problem with is me being in it.

And I don't even have a boomstick...

Day 2.

My sanity is either definitely slipping or I'm a colder bastard than I thought I was. I didn't sleep well, but when daylight came up well enough to see I needed to get some water. I hadn't hid my car with that in mind, but I made a good guess and found a stream about a ten minute walk to west. I thought about alien microorganisms for all of three seconds, then shrugged and drank my fill. I'd rather they kill me than die of thirst, but the stream looked clean, my shots are up to date, and I don't have any way to boil the water.

Then the soldier showed up. He looked wrung out and scared, and I'd have been happy to calm the guy down if he'd have let me, but instead he waved a knife at me and demanded my coat.

"I'd rather not," I said. Stupidly, in hindsight.

"Give it to me!" he shouted, and stepped forward, waving the knife again, and ended up only a few steps away.

I'm not sure what came over me. I pulled the tire iron from the belt loop I was carrying it in and threw it directly at the man. Hard. He reacted from instinct and raised his knife hand to block, but the iron caught him hard in the forearm. I didn't hear anything break but he did yelp in pain. Then I tackled him. I don't think he'd expected me to move so fast, but I got under his knife arm and drove my shoulder into his chest. I lifted him up off the ground then somehow flipped him over backwards as I drove him back down. He hit the ground hard, then I came down on him harder. Again, I don't know if I broke anything (his or mine) but I heard the breath being driven out of his body. He flailed at me with the knife, but there was no strength at all behind it. I grabbed his hand and jammed the knife into his neck. Twice. I hope he didn't feel it.

It took me a while to stop shaking after that. I did clean my hands and the knife, and took the blade for myself. I dragged the body away from the stream and hid it under some bushes. The only thing I could say was, "Sorry," and I really meant it.

I drank some more water and filled the small plastic bottle I'd brought with me, then limped back to the car. The only thing I could think about was that I understood Fereldan.


	3. Brainhack

Day 2, afternoon

I don't know that I murdered that guy as much as manslaughtered him, but he's still dead. That's something else I'm going have to deal with.

But, according to Survivorman, you do what you have to do to survive. And right now, survival's the highest priority on the list. Speaking of which...

Assets:

- 1996 Subaru Outback

- 3/8 tank of gas (100-150 miles, depending on the terrain and exactly how much gas is left)

- tire iron

- jack

- spare tire

- 1 quart 5w-30 synthetic motor oil

- sunshade

- crude darkspawn sword

- Swiss Army knife (the good one with a magnifying glass _and_ a corkscrew [take that you Leatherman toting freaks! _I_ can open a bottle of wine if I need to.])

- screwdriver, reversible

- tire pressure gauge

- jumper cables

- 100 feet of nylon 550 cord

- Meal, Ready to Eat (chicken fajita, but not hungry right now)

- cell phone (no signal [yes, I checked])

- Timex Ironman watch (it's 6:32:44am, and counting, Sunday, 4 March 2012 [like that really matters right now])

- Velcro wrap

- box of #16 x 1 ¼ finishing nails

- sanding discs (various grits)

- two 1x8x6 foot pieces of red oak

- jug of CLR

- A/C filters: 12x24 and 20x25

- handful of change (pennies are probably good, but not sure about the other coins)

- wallet with credit cards, IDs, about $70 cash (frakkin' useless)

- four reusable grocery bags

- two plastic water bottles

- handful of napkins from McDonald's (but no toilet paper)

- this journal

- 3 ballpoint pens and a mechanical pencil

- sewing kit

- my military ID tags

- heavy winter coat

- clothes on my back: rugby shirt, t-shirt, underwear (briefs, if you must know), jeans (Levi's), socks, Nikes

- workout clothes: t-shirt

Still day 2, but early evening. I still don't have an appetite, but that's probably due to the ironic BSOD I just went through. The t-shirt has an image of the Milky Way galaxy with an arrow pointing to the one of the arms. The caption reads "You are here."

Day 3, morning

I didn't sleep well. I mean, the car's comfortable enough, but it still bugs me that I killed a man just to hang on to my coat. The guy was scared; he was probably a deserter, and probably didn't want to do anything more than stay warm and go home.

Same for me.

Cracked open the MRE to grab the matches and guess what? This generation of MREs doesn't have matches in the accessory pack. So, no easy fire for me. Since I had it open I decided to go ahead and eat the tortillas and cheese. It looks like the water didn't make me sick, although the bottles are a bit cloudy. I'll leave them out in the sun after I refill them. Hopefully UV works the same way here that it does on Earth.

So am I sane or not? Trauma, Shining

Am I dreaming, in a coma, or somehow plugged into an alternate reality? Matrix, Inception

Did some mage manage to transport me here for some reason? Spellsinger, Doomfarers of Coramonde

Did a higher or other power do this? Less Darkness Fall, The Other Time

Am I just dead? Heaven Can Wait, Erfworld

Day 3, late morning

I need to stop this BSOD provoking navel-gazing and get down to the business of assuming I'm alive, and therefore, surviving.

Assumptions:

- I'm alive

- I've somehow been transported to the _DA_ universe

- Getting home is probably not feasible

- I'm still me (no magic, no new skills)

- I'm in Ferelden

- ?

- profit

So the big question now is when am I WRT the Blight? Has Ostagar happened yet? Let's find out.

Day 3, late afternoon

Okay, I know a lot more now. First, I can definitely speak and understand the Ferelden language. I don't know if it's this universe's English analogue or if my brain's been shifted to this language. But how? And why?

I've got to stop asking these questions. If I don't, I'm pretty sure just considering the possible answers will make me crazy. Of course, that leads to "How do I know I'm not already crazy?" Maybe it would help if I had a volleyball or a giant invisible rabbit to talk to.

I took the simple expedient of walking back to the stream, then following it upstream until I found people. Actually, I found a small farm. I walked up to the door, knocked, and spoke with a boy and then his mother. Turns out I am in Ferelden. Neither of them had heard anything about Ostagar, but they were able to point me towards a village a bit further upstream. I'll check there tomorrow for news. With more information I can make better decisions. (I hope.) Lothering, on the other hand, appears to be some distance to the southwest, so if I remember the map correctly I'm somewhere between there and the Brecilian (sp?) Forest.

And I traded a couple of pennies for a loaf of bread. At least I have a little bit of useable money. And I've got a few things I can trade or sell. The box of nails won't be very useful except as barter. If I could find a real craftsman he might be willing to pay for those and the sandpaper.

Damn, my knee hurts. I'd kill (poor choice of words, sorry) really like a naprosyn right now.

Day 3, dusk

Thinking about money got me really thinking. The mirrors should be worth a nice amount; they're probably better than anything in Ferelden. So I tried to figure a way to get them off. The right mirror freaked me out a bit. "Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear" looked like alien writing. I checked the maintenance entries in this book and so do they. And so did the owner's manual text. The numbers on the gauges didn't look right, but didn't look too wrong either, but I think that's because they're easy to understand; but the dates and other numbers from earlier entries are similarly shaped gibberish too. I tried copying the words from the owner's manual but it was like trying to copy a picture freehand. A quick check confirmed that all of the printed material in my car had changed.

Or rather, I had. Apparently someone's been messing with my brain.


	4. Breakfast of Champions

**Day 4, sunrise**

First: the nightmare, except I don't have nightmares. I just have really freaky dreams that make me feel like I'm at the movies. Anyway, the soldier that I killed talked to me. I'm not sure exactly what he said, but it was something about not really being mad at me, but now he'll never get to go home. Then my mom showed up and fed him some fried chicken.

Second: something large and (hopefully?) humanoid passed nearby during the night, but fortunately didn't come close enough to the car to spot it. It's a good thing. I'm so freaked out about the situation that I don't know if I would have defended myself. I don't even know if I could have defended myself. I mean, I kinda know how to handle a sword, but I've got the modern man's fear of being chopped up by a sharp object.

But suppose I die here? What then? Do I get to go home? Can I go home? How did I get here in the first place? Am I dead at home? Maybe I'm just in a coma. Maybe I'm in a holodeck.

If I am in a holodeck the controls are offline or at least inaccessible. "Computer, end program" didn't work.

Time to change the subject.

I could really use a shower.

I'm beginning to think Ostagar hasn't happened yet. Don't know why, just have the feeling. At this point I need to decide what to do if that's the case. I can try to insert myself into the narrative; the Warden

...

What kind of character is the Warden? Human, dwarf, elf? Male or female? Would he or she even want my help? What kind of help can I offer?

Foreknowledge. But how do I pass it to the Warden? Do I tell him everything that's going to happen? Or just warn him about the really dangerous stuff and let him make the tough decisions? It would be easy enough to convince the Warden what I'm all about. (Make that "should".) But...

I know how this will turn out. I can drive as far as possible towards Denerim, hitch the rest of the way, sell a few items and book passage on a ship to somewhere. Or head to northwest Ferelden; IIRC the Blight never reaches that area. Or I could just keep going into Orlais or the Anderfels, although I'm not too clear on the geography. That's the safe choice, and as far as my survival is concerned, that's also the smart choice. But...

I'll come back to that.

**Day 4, early afternoon**

I'm stuck in radio limbo. I ran through the whole dial, FM and AM, and only got static. (That tells me something, but I'm not sure what it is.) Unfortunately, I don't have any tapes with me, so I drove in silence. I'm gonna miss KLPX.

I didn't have to go too far; the village the farmer mentioned to me was only three or four miles away from the stead, but I took my time and stayed away from the main road. That meant it was slow going but at least I didn't have to worry too much about a crowd of curious and/or hostile onlookers. I concealed the car the best I could in some brush and walked a half-mile or so into the village on my sore knee.

I was expecting to draw attention simply because I was a stranger, but I was hoping my clothes wouldn't stand out as badly as they did. I was warm enough that I didn't need my coat, but did wear my rugby shirt to ward off the chill. But that and my jeans were a far cry from the standard Ferelden dress, and a horizontally striped burgundy and gold rugby shirt will catch attention anywhere in the multiverse.

I tried speaking to the first person I saw. He might have been an ostler, but that doesn't really matter. "Pardon, ser," I opened with, "but would you know if King Cailen's army has marched south?" Yeah, I know, but I figured I might as well dive into the deep end.

The man stopped what he was doing and looked me up and down. "Interesting accent you've got there. Clothes, too. Traveler?" It was as much a statement as a question.

I nodded. "Yes, ser, I am, and from farther away than you'd think."

The man shrugged. "No matter. But as to the King's army you'd need to head over there." He pointed vaguely in the direction of a couple of buildings. "Remy'd know better than I would about things like that." And with that he turned and went back to his work.

"Thank you, ser," I said, and moved along.

I got lucky on the first try and entered what could only be a tavern. It was almost exactly what I expected. Small, dark, and smelling of sweat, beer, and (vaguely, fortunately) urine. The almost part made me want to turn around and head back to the car. There were three men wearing Templar armor sitting in the corner away from the door. I was not expecting them. But I needed information and these guys shouldn't have any reason to come after me. But I'm sure they were examining my clothes as closely as the man outside had done.

So I ignored the Templars and walked up to the bar. "Remy?"

The (probable) barkeep gave me much more thorough look. "Aye," he finally answered, trying to look me in the eyes but instead examining my glasses.

I ignored the stares and dug into my pocket. "The man outside stacking hay gave me your name. He said you could give me information." I pulled a few coins from my pocket and dropped them on the counter. "I guess the first thing I need to know is if these are any good."

Remy took a look at the coins then looked back at me. I nodded at him; he picked up a quarter.

He examined it suspiciously, even going so far as to sniff it. "Not silver," he finally said. "What's it made of?"

"Nickel and copper around a copper disk."

"Nickel?"

"A metal used in my homeland."

"Like silver?"

I shook my head and frowned. "No, it's nowhere near that valuable. But it's tough and wears well, so we make coins with it."

"But if the metal's not valuable how is this worth anything?" Remy just looked confused.

Ad-lib time. "Our ruler sets the value of the coins to a common item. This," I pointed to a dime, "will buy a chicken."

Remy shook his head. "Not here it won't. Don't even see that any of these are even worth anything except for these." He pointed to a couple of pennies. "Provided they're copper, of course."

I nodded. "Of course. And, yes, they are copper." (Well, copper and zinc, but Remy didn't need to know that.) "And, more importantly, can I buy breakfast with them?"

I could see Remy consider the question for a moment, but he finally answered. "Two for bread, two more for cheese, four more for sausage."

I wasn't ready to risk a sausage. "Bread, cheese, and a brown beer if you have it." I wasn't ready to risk water from this place, either.

Remy tapped his fingers on the bar as he spoke. "Bread." Two taps, and two fingers extended. "Cheese." Two more taps and two more fingers. "Beer." Four taps and four fingers. "Eight of those," he said, pointing to the pennies.

I knew he was ripping me off. "Six, and you can have this to keep as well." I pointed at a dime.

Remy shrugged, but looked interested. "Sure. Be right back." He ducked through a hanging curtain. I heard him cutting my food and drawing the beer. He stepped back out with a wooden plate and wooden mug and looked at me expectantly. I nodded down at the counter; I'd already sorted out the appropriate coins. Remy set the dishes down and scooped up the coins. I picked up my food and sat down at the nearest table, making sure to half-face the Templars.

They had their heads down and appeared to be discussing something. I didn't need to guess what that something was. Still, I decided to start eating rather than pay too much attention to them, but then I started thinking about _DA2_ and blowing up the chantry. That lead me to thinking about gunpowder, and that lead me to thinking how much that would be worth. Probably a lot to the Thedan nations, but the Qunari would probably kill me to keep the secret quiet. So while I'm thinking about it...

Wish I'd worn my time traveler t-shirt, but here goes nothing from memory: 70% saltpeter, 15% charcoal, 15% sulfur.

To anybody who finds this: that formula just above will create a low explosive suitable for cannons, rockets, mining, and other applications. (Look in the back of this journal for some rough diagrams of these items.) Be creative, but be careful; this stuff is dangerous. And feel free to jigger the proportions based on the application.

I'm going to that special hell...

_A/N: I know the inventory from the previous chapter is pretty extensive, but, on the day I decided to start writing this fic, all those items (except for the journal) were actually in my car. Yes, I keep a length of rope and a MRE in my Subaru. And yes, I need to clean it out._


	5. Person of Interest

**Day 4, late afternoon**

Munched on some bread and water. And I'm still not sick.

I'm going to get today's events down while I can; I'm not in the best of moods right now for reasons I'll explain later.

Okay, where did I leave off? Breakfast. The cheese was fairly good, if a bit dry. It tasted kind of like Swiss, and went well with the fresh (well, day old at most) dark bread it was served with. The beer was decent, although not cold enough for my liking. Like I said in the last entry I didn't really try to get away from the Templars, but I didn't try to draw their attention either.

But that didn't help. After a brief discussion that involved the shaking of heads one of the Templars stood and walked the short distance over to my table. I put on my best poker face and looked up at him. He stared back down at me for a moment; we locked gazes for about ten seconds, then I shrugged and turn my attention back to my meal.

That had the desired effect. The Templar cleared his throat and spoke. "Your pardon, ser, but I would speak with you for a short time." The words and tone were calm and courteous, but there was a hint of annoyance and more than a hint of command behind them.

I returned my eyes to the Templar's. "And you would be...?"

"I am Ser Bertrand, Knight Templar of Denerim."

I jumped in with my answer before he could continue. "And...?" I said as I shrugged with my hands and looked at his companions.

That seemed to put the man off his game. He looked backed to the other Templars; one shrugged and the other shook his head. Bertrand looked back at me. "Templar. From the Chantry," he said as if speaking to a child.

I continued to play dumb. I shrugged again and shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand the significance of your organization."

That really threw him. Bertrand looked back to his companions again. One shrugged (the same one as earlier, I think) and the other nodded. Bertrand nodded back and moved more quickly than you'd expect a man wearing all that armor to move. His sword flew out of his scabbard (silently; sorry, no _shing_ here) and swung towards me. "Defend yourself, apostate!" he shouted.

I was truly surprised, but my reflexes took over. I fell backwards out of my chair, but had just enough wit about me to roll further away from the table. I scrambled ungracefully to my feet and looked for a weapon; the nearest one was the chair I had just fallen out of. I was trying to figure out how to snag it or anything with which I could defend myself when Bertrand held up his free hand.

"Hold, ser, hold," he said quickly and calmly. He lowered the sword and continued. "I was but testing you."

I didn't let my guard down. "I assume I passed," I snapped. Any pretense of calm was gone.

"Aye, you did." Bertrand sheathed his weapon (again, the scabbard was silent).

I stayed where I was.

Bertrand stood my chair back up. "Please, ser, be seated." He took the chair opposite mine and sat down, alert but relaxed. "I take it you're not familiar with my order?"

"I think I said as much."

"And I thought as much. Still, I wanted to be sure you weren't simply trying to deceive us." It was his turn to shrug. "You don't have the look of a mage, or the reactions."

Inwardly I let out a sigh of relief. But, just like in a poker game, I had to keep up the face. "And what does my being a mage-" I held up a finger- "or rather, not being a mage, have to do you waving a sword in my face?"

"Mages," Bertrand said plainly, "tend to start throwing fire or raising magical shields when they're threatened like you were." He gestured at the chair. "Please. Be seated. And let me replace your breakfast."

I looked at the table and, sure enough, I'd knocked the beer over onto the plate. The cheese might be rescued, but the rest was a soggy mess. I sighed and sat down, nodding as I did.

"Innkeep!" Bertrand called. When Remy reappeared Bertrand motioned at my plate. "A new breakfast for him, and another beer for me." He looked back at me. "Again, my apologies, but we must be on guard for apostates."

I tilted my head. "Apostates?"

I'll spare you the rest of that portion of the conversation. If you know anything at all about _DA_ then you probably know how it went. If not, check the wiki. If that's not available, well, I don't know... But the important thing is I did learn I'm able to deceive a Templar face-to-face.

Bertrand was nice enough to buy me a second beer after I finished the first, and he had his companions join us. Overall, despite what you see in the game, they were actually nice enough fellows. Still, they were trying not so subtly to pump me for information. Fair play, I suppose; I would have done the same thing in their shoes.

"And you say you're lost?" Alton asked. (Guess how I remembered his name?)

"I'm still not sure how I ended up here," I answered.

"And your homeland is far from here?"

"Further than I'd ever thought it'd be."

Oh, that was so true.

"Can I see your coins?" the third Templar asked. (Sorry, I forgot his name.)

"Sure," and I dumped a few on the table. "Feel free to look. Except for the pennies – the coppers - they're not much good to me here."

Bertrand was looking at one of the quarters. "Marvelous detail," he said. "How do they cast them so cleanly?"

"I'm not sure," I answered. "I've got some rough ideas but I don't really know."

"No matter," he said. "May I trade for it?"

"Uhmm, sure," I said.

Bertrand dug in his own pouch and pulled out a small silver coin. "One for one?" he asked.

I nodded but said, "I think I'm getting the better part of the deal."

Bertrand slid the silver over to me and pocketed (pouched?) the quarter. "Probably, but 'tis only a pittance. I won't miss it."

And so on. I ended up trading some of my nicer coins for a few silvers, so I guess it was a net gain up to that point. We continued some friendly but guarded banter for a bit. But then Bertrand said something that caught my attention.

"You say you've seen nothing amiss in the area."

"That's right," I answered.

Bertrand frowned. "Well, it seems that except for you it seems we've come this way for naught."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"A few days ago we felt a magical disruption in the area. It was strong enough that we felt it even amongst the mages in the King's army."

"And they thought for certain the Veil had torn, the disruption was so strong," Alton put in.

"Yes, yes. And when we saw you we were expecting you to be a mage," Bertrand continued. "But you're not one, and you say you've seen nothing. No apostates, no abominations, naught." He leaned back in his chair and gave me a pointed look. "And, yet, you're the only unusual thing we've encountered."

Uh, oh. "What more can I tell you?"

"What you're really doing here," the third Templar asked.

"The truth?" I asked.

Bertrand nodded.

I took a deep breath in order to give myself a few seconds. What do I say that doesn't get me arrested or worse? How do I talk myself out of this? They're sure I'm not a mage, but what do they think I am?

Ding.

"Do you promise not to gut me with those big, shiny swords you have if I tell you?" I asked as calmly as I could. (This, on thinking about it later, was actually pretty calm.)

Bertrand nodded again.

Here goes nothing. Again. "I used to be in my nation's army, but I was forced to retire after I injured my knee. But my commanders decided that I was too valuable to just pay off, so they arranged to heal me. Not well enough to fight, but certainly well enough to gather information.

"And they heard about the Blight. There's a lot we don't know about it, so what better way to learn than to send someone to investigate it first-hand. That is why I'm here.

"And, no," I added emphatically as they exchanged looks, "I'm not a spy. I'm simply here so figure out what's going on with the Blight." The Templars looked skeptical. I sighed. "Look, I'll be happy to swear to whatever oath you'd like me to swear to that I'm only trying to figure out what's going on, AND that I don't intend to bring any harm to Ferelden."

"Well, here in Ferelden," I continued before they could interrupt. "Things were going normally for me, but I suddenly realized I was lost. Just a few days ago, and not far from here. But I haven't seen any mages, apostates, or whatever. All I've been trying to do is to get to back to civilization for the last couple of days, and I'm not having much luck with that." And with that I took a drink of the beer and waited for them to say something.

Bertrand looked at the other Templars. Again, Alton shrugged, and the third guy nodded. Bertrand looked at me. "You may claim to not be a spy, but I think it best you accompany us until we can determine that with more certainty. And, even if your story holds true, I believe Teryn Loghain would like to hear what you have to say."

Okay, that's it for now. I'm going to curl up into a ball and cry for a while.


	6. Thanks For All the Fish

Day 5, sunrise

First: the nightmare, except I don't have nightmares. I just have really freaky dreams that make me feel like I'm at the movies. Anyway, the soldier that I killed talked to me some more. Again, I'm not sure exactly what he said, but it was something about not really being mad at me, but now he'll never get to go home. And that my mom is a nice lady. Which was true. My mom died from cancer back in 2005. At least I had a chance to see her and say goodbye before she passed.

Second: I really miss the copy and paste function.

Third: Bertrand and his companions were part of Cailen's army that was indeed heading to Ostagar.

Fourth: Bertrand was dispatched to the area four days ago to check out a powerful magical disruption that could have only - make that most likely been my arrival. Based on what Alton said and what I know about the DA-verse I was apparently somehow yanked through the Veil from my home universe (assuming, of course, that it exists there), dragged through the Fade, shoved through the Veil at this end, and turned loose to wreak whatever havoc I can. I guess the questions at this point are "Who?" and "Why?"

Fifth: in the interest of keeping the chronology straight the following section about the Templars happened yesterday morning.

Bertrand continued from where I left off in the last entry. "You will accompany us to King Cailen's army. They're a few days ahead of us, but moving slowly enough that we should be able to catch them before they reach Ostagar. We'll take you to Teryn Loghain; he'll want to speak with you regarding everything you just told us." He drew a breath to continue, but I interrupted.

"So I'm your prisoner?"

Bertrand actually had the decency to look a bit uncomfortable as he answered. "No," he said slowly, "we don't actually have much authority outside the Chantry except over mages. But we try to keep on a good footing with the crown, and this situation is probably one they'd like know of."

I leaned forward. "Look, I'd really rather not get involved with your King or this Teryn fellow-"

"Teryn is Loghain's title."

"Loghain, then. Like I said, I have no intention of bringing any harm to Ferelden; I'm just here to gather information about the Blight, and maybe lend a small hand against it."

"All the more reason for you to accompany us."

Damn, I was doing a wonderful job of talking myself into a corner. I sighed. "But you said I'm not your prisoner."

"We would hope you would accompany us of your own accord."

"But if I were to choose not to? I mean, what if I decided to just get up and walk out the door?"

Again, Bertrand looked uncomfortable, but his tone of voice left no doubt as to his seriousness. "Then we might have to use these big, shiny swords."

Now, at this point it occurred to me that letting these guys take me to Ostagar might not be a bad idea. We'd probably get there a couple to five days after the main army, and that would give me a good chance to link up with the Warden. However, I'd have to deal with whatever Loghain would have in mind for me, and it was entirely possible that the Chantry reps might want to take a closer look at me. Getting free to link up wouldn't be that easy. And, assuming that I could get free, I'd still have to deal with the Horde. Cailen seemed like a nice enough guy but when it came to military matters he seemed to be an idiot, and being around Ostagar during that battle would be an excellent way to shorten my already probably short lifespan.

OTOH, the Templars knew the geography of the area and could get me to the Warden and Duncan. Duncan might be able to use his pull with the King to get me loose, and I might be able to convince Duncan to convince the King to alter the plan of battle. But the only way Duncan would probably be able to get me loose would be via the Right of Conscription, and doing a shot of darkspawn blood (with or without lemon and salt) didn't seem like an attractive option at the moment. A day later, it's even less attractive.

Gripping hand time again: get these guys to help me figure out where I am, ditch them ASAP, and make a decision based on that info. Step one of that plan was to get back to the Subaru. Step three would be to get into the Subaru and drive away. Step two was figuring out where I am, but that was optional.

So I sighed, twisted my lips, and said, "Fine. But let me finish eating first."

Bertrand nodded his assent then called for another round. I wasn't complaining; the beer was good and despite the situation I actually felt safe and relaxed. I figured the worst thing that could happen was that I would end up in Ostagar. At least if I ended up there one of the healers could do something about my knee.

I'm sure you're wondering about what's going on with my knee. I've got a mild case of osteoarthritis. Not bad enough that I can't walk, but certainly painful enough to cause me to limp. I've probably got a couple hundred yards of running in it, but I'll save that for an emergency. Right now the only treatment available is rest and elevation, and I didn't expect to get much of either of those.

So I finished my breakfast with a slight buzz. Bertrand asked if I was ready to leave, but I was feeling a little cocky and asked him to spot me a couple of coins for some supplies. He didn't seem to mind too much though, and sprung for a loaf of break and a hunk of cheese.

"Now are you ready?" he asked again.

"Yes, but I need one more favor from you."

Bertrand frowned.

I shook my head. "It's an easy one. I need to go back to my camp and pick up some equipment. There's nothing dangerous, but there's some things I can't replace..." I trailed off then added, "Please."

Bertrand looked to Alton and the third guy, who shrugged and nodded in turn. I was wondering why he couldn't make a decision on his own when he answered. "Aye, we can do that."

I nodded. "Then let's go."

I grabbed the food and stood up, but Bertrand stopped me. "Not so quickly," he said. "Third guy [yeah, I know], fetch the horses." The third Templar nodded and left the small room. Bertrand turned to me. "Are you mounted?"

I shook my head. "My, uh, transportation, it's at my camp."

Alton leaned forward. "May I ask something?"

"Sure."

"What is that – frame, I guess, on your face?"

I laughed gently and spent the next few minutes explaining eyeglasses as best I could until the third Templar stuck his head in the door. And with that, Bertrand decided it was time to leave.

So there I was. Stuck in a real-life version of a video game leading three probably very dangerous NPCs back to where I had concealed an old Subaru. I'll be honest: it was all very surreal, and frankly, seemed to be on the crazy side of crazy. But I didn't feel crazy: I felt adrenaline. I was barely able to keep myself from shaking simply because of the situation. At the time I barely even felt the pain in my knee.

Then there were the horses. They weren't your standard, light-duty modern horses, but rather heavy, bulky beasts that resembled three-quarter scale Clydesdales. The Templars had them prepped for riding, but the horses were also lightly loaded with whatever gear the Templars had brought with them. I was kind of surprised to see the animals; but then, there was no reason for them to not be there.

And finally, Alton spoke up as we left the village. "So do you have a family back at your home?"

Wonderful. A horribly timed psychological kick in the crotch. As if I didn't already have enough going on in my head already. I actually staggered and stopped walking after he asked the question.

"Are you hurt?" Alton asked.

I sighed heavily. Very heavily. "I do, but..." I sighed again. "The way I travelled here..." I could feel all three Templars staring at me. "My trip here was probably one-way. I don't know if I can go home again." The Templars stayed quiet. I looked up at Alton. "Yes, I do have a family: a wife, two sons, three dogs, and two cats." They actually smiled at that. "But I really doubt..." Nothing more to say.

We were all quiet for a few minutes. Alton broke the silence with a quiet, "I'm sorry." He sounded like he meant it. Bertrand and the other guy both mumbled agreement.

I sighed heavily again. "Give me a minute to get my head back on straight."

Breathe, I told myself. Just breathe. Concentrate on the air going in and out. Don't to try to not think about family and home; do think about the air. Just feel it going in and out, count five breaths, then start over.

It took me more than a minute to calm down. But I suddenly realized I'd counted eight breaths, so I broke the meditation and simply said, "Let's go," and started walking.

Bertrand came up beside me. "Are you well?"

"Not really, but well enough to do what I have to do."

"Very well."

We finished the rest of the short walk in silence, at least until we got to the spot where I'd hidden the car.

"'Ware the beast!" the third guy shouted.

The other Templars drew their swords and I started rubbernecking and looking for the quickest escape route.

"There!" the guy shouted as he pointed. I followed his finger and CRAP!

"Maker's breath!" Bertrand shouted.

"Wait, wait, wait! Cease fire!" I shouted. "Weapons tight! Hold!" I had no idea what to say, so decided anything might work.

It did. All three Templars stopped where they were and stared at me instead of my car. Then they turned back to the car. "It's all right! It's not a beast! It's safe!" I shouted.

Bertrand looked at me, but kept his sword pointed at my car. It was actually shaking. "Then what is it?"

"It's how I got here! It's mine. It's my- It's my cart." But I could understand how they could see it as a monster of some sort; the headlights are eyes, and the hood line kind of looks like a mouth.

"What is it?"

I sighed. Again. I've been doing a lot of that, I know, but it's appropriate, I guess. "This, gentlemen, is a nineteen ninety-six Subaru, built by a group of craftsmen from a place called Indiana. It's nothing more than a dumb machine." Sorry, car. I walked up to it and thumped the hood. "It's made of metal and glass and other things, and it's perfectly safe to be around."

Bertrand kept staring, his eyes wide. "Maker's breath! How was it made? How-"

"It's like my coins," I interrupted. "I know some of the very basic steps, but it's the folks who built it that could answer that question. And they're not here, so let me get my gear, and then you can drag me to see Loghain."

"Aye, you do that," Bertrand said quietly.

All three Templars lowered their swords and simply watched as I unlocked the car and put the bread and cheese away. To their credit the horses didn't seem to care about what I was doing, but their handlers' nervousness was translating to them. Time for step two.

"Bertrand," I said, "do you have a map of the area? Bertrand?"

The man started then answered, "Aye, a simple one. Why do you need it?"

"On the very slim chance that someone from my homeland finds this," I gestured to the car, "I'd like to leave a message for them. You know, to tell them where I'm going."

"Aye, I can do that for you." He handed his horse's reins off to the third guy and dug into his saddlebag. Sure enough, the guy had a reasonably detailed map of southern Ferelden. It was your standard hand-drawn map, but it showed a lot more features than anything actually provided in the game. After a little coaxing from me, Bertrand spread it out on the car's hood. A quick look, and I knew where I was going that afternoon.

But...

Templars don't have families, except maybe for each other. But all three of these guys seemed pretty nice and even sympathetic to what they knew of my situation. But they were planning to take me to Ostagar. Even if I survived it there's no guarantee these guys would. And as ticked off as I was about being reminded of home I didn't want to send these guys into probable death. So I held off step three of my escape plan for the moment.

"Bertrand," I said, "don't go to Ostagar." He gave me a sharp look, but I continued before he could say anything. "Listen to me carefully. Sometimes I simply know things; that's probably why I was sent here. I don't know much about Ostagar, but I do know that the Blight is stronger than it seems, and that things are going to go badly."

Now Bertrand seemed suspicious. "How do you know this? You're no mage; are you a seer of some sort?"

I shook my head. "I'm no mage, and I'm not a seer, but sometimes I just know what will happen. Listen, you and your companions have treated me well, and I'd prefer to not see any harm come to you. You can take my advice or not, but my conscience is clear and I'm not going!" And with that, I started step three.

I know a little bit of tai chi. If you're not familiar with it, think slow motion kung fu. It focuses on deliberate movements, balance, and leverage. Bertrand had none of those working for him; I had all three plus surprise. My bad knee popped as I knelt and pivoted towards the Templar, then protested as I leaned towards him. My hands came up into his breast plate and I shoved with both arms and legs. Bertrand didn't go flying back, but the push sent him well clear of both me and the car. I snatched the map off the hood and jumped into the driver's seat before any of the Templars could react to what I was doing.

One advantage to having an old car is that you know exactly where everything in it is. I got the key into the ignition with zero effort. A quick twist and the old Subaru came to life. I locked the doors with my left hand as I shifted into drive, and then stepped on the gas pedal and held down the horn. The horses and Templars all started while I did this; I managed to dodge one of the horses as it broke free. A glance at the mirrors revealed a second horse running in a different direction; one of the Templars managed to hang on to the third mount.

I got up to about thirty miles per hour once I hit the dirt track that passed for a road. I didn't slow down or look back after that. I figured that would be tempting fate a bit too much. I did, however, pull over after a few miles, checked the map, and then drove more or less west towards Lothering. I have no idea why I picked this direction; it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But I stopped after about 30 miles, made sure the car was well hidden, and settled in for the night.

Sixth: After I stopped the car I could feel my focus just evaporate. In the interest of maintaining my sanity I wrote as much as I could about yesterday's events, but finally just gave up and had a breakdown. I shouldn't be angry at Alton; it was an innocent question he asked, but it made me realize just how alone I am here, and wonder about what my family's going through. If I was bodily transported here then I'm a missing person. If my essence (for lack of a better word) was the only thing transported then I'm either dead at home, or this incarnation is a copy. None of those options is very reassuring. Anyway, I did finally sleep, but not well. I tried meditating again, but it didn't work well. I woke up too early this morning, but decided sitting in place was the best option for now. I ate a little then finished recording yesterday's events. It's early afternoon right now, and my hand is cramped from scribbling, but I feel better. Kind of. Maybe.


	7. Rust Monster

**Day 5, late afternoon**

Just sitting around wasn't good for my mood, so I pulled out the sword for a test drive. It's heavier than it looks and it's a bit rusty, so it's probably mostly iron. It's balanced almost dead center and doesn't have much of a hilt or an edge. I doubt it's worth more than the metal it's made of, but at least it's a sword. (Actually, it's more of a crowbar. The problem is I'm not Gordon Freeman. [Ah, humor. I think that means I'm feeling better.])

I tried the usual things: thrusting, chopping, blocking. In about 10 minutes I tired out my arm, aggravated my knee, and realized that without some real training I'm a dead man if I get into a melee.

So I thought about some dinner. I poked around in the MRE and decided on the refried beans. They weren't quite the taste of home I was looking for. On the plus side I found a ziplock bag in the MRE.

So I checked the map. I've got a decent idea of where I am in relation to Lothering, and now I'm further away from Denerim than I was. If I can get to Lothering before Ostagar happens I've got a chance to make some usable money and make some long-term plans. Distance is the issue. Bertrand wasn't too clear on his map's scale, and guessed we were around 40 leagues from Lothering. If a Ferelden league = 3 Ferelden miles = 3 statute miles then I should have just enough gas to get there.

Guess that's it for now. I'm going to try meditating again. Here's to a better tomorrow.

**Day 5, dusk**

I turned to the last blank page in this journal and made a list of names. Family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances. Couldn't think of anything to write that wouldn't sound narmish. If I do I'll add it later.

**Day 6, sunrise**

I couldn't sleep last night. I just kept staring out the windows and feeling sorry for myself. Which was stupid, because all that did was drag my mood down further than it is. So I went over the list of names I wrote and had another good cry. That made me feel better.

But I still couldn't sleep. It seemed like I checked my watch every two minutes, then finally around 2100 (watch time) figured that if I couldn't sleep I'd hit the road. It turned out to be a pretty good idea. The South King's Road (as Bertrand called it) is mostly wide, graveled, and generally well-maintained. There were a few rough spots and shallow water crossings; it's a good thing I had the Outback and not the Impreza. I was able to maintain a pretty good pace without having to worry about other travelers. And I guess there's a law about building right along the road, because the only buildings I passed were well back from it.

It took me about an hour and a half to cover about 50 miles, and that's when the low fuel light came on. I pulled over, killed the engine, and thought about the situation for a moment. I couldn't come up with any new answers, so I started the car, reset the trip odometer, and continued west.

I kept a close eye on the distance I'd travelled. I figured I had 30-40 miles of fuel left. I ended up going less than 20 when I thought I saw city lights. I stopped, killed the engine again, and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Sure enough, there were enough lights in the distance that I was probably looking at Lothering. I started the car for the last time and drove a bit farther, then turned off the road. I found some brush and hid myself as best as I could, killed the engine, and stared out the window until I fell asleep.

I didn't have the quasi-nightmare, but did dream vividly again. This time it was about Leliana, oddly enough. It wasn't erotic; it was more of a "Hi, nice to meet to you" type thing. Then a Mabari told me to not be so sad and that soon I wouldn't be lonely anymore. Thinking back on it, the dream actually does seem a little nightmarish.

IIRC Leliana becomes/became aware of the Warden via a dream, so now I'm wondering if she's aware of me via the same method. This implies that whatever force/entity/whatever that brought me here wants me to go to Lothering. If that's the case I'm assuming it also wants me to hook up with the Warden there. If it wanted me in Ostagar I probably wouldn't have been able to start my car two days ago.

Great, now I'm granting motive to an unseen, unknown force (hopefully not THE Force).

Anyway, based on this I'm guessing I'm not the Warden. I'm old, banged up, and have no real useful skills for this 'verse. What I do have is knowledge, a few useful bits of tech, and a grim determination to figure out WTF is going on.

If I'm going to be at all useful, though, I need to make sure I start by being in shape. 50 push-ups, 50 sit-ups, and 10 minutes or so of playing with the sword will be a good start. (I won't be able to start running again unless I can get my knee fixed.)

I feel safe enough to head into Lothering and try to find Leliana at the Chantry. I might be a fugitive from the Templars, but if anybody calls me out on it I'll say it's a one-armed man they're looking for. I'm actually glad I ended up making the drive last night; there's a much smaller chance I'd started any rumors or tales that might put the Templars back on to me. And I traveled a lot faster than communication (even with yesterday's down time), so I should be safe for a few days at least.

I still need a shower, but I settled for washing my head and rinsing out some of my clothes when I got water. I still haven't had any reactions to the local cuisine, but I haven't been eating much either, and bread is usually safe. Don't know about the cheese. My jeans were kind of loose when I arrived; they're sagging on me right now. I haven't shaved in a week and I look pretty scraggly, but a few minutes with my knife's scissors cleaned up the worst of it. Still, when I checked myself in the mirror, I looked like a serial killer.

Survival tip: if you need a toothbrush cut a green twig off a tree, splinter the end, and gently scrub your teeth. A fingertip inside a wet piece of cloth will work, too.

So a quick workout, some breakfast, and time to pack. A few things will get left behind: the A/C filters, the sunshade, scraps of paper. Anything remotely useful goes with me. (That includes the cell phone. I have an idea that I'll need a mage to test.)

Fuck! Broke the passenger side mirror. But it's good practice for the driver's side.

Fuck.

No problem with the rear view and vanity mirrors. I wrapped the boards up with the Velcro. Everything else got stuffed into the grocery bags. I tested the load; it was a little awkward, but not too heavy.

I took one last inventory of the stuff I was leaving behind and poked through the car to make sure I hadn't missed anything useful. I hadn't, so with that I made sure the windows were rolled up, the doors were unlocked, dropped the keys on the driver's seat, and closed the door. I bade the car farewell, but I doubted it would.

_A/N: my thanks to those of you who've left reviews; I really appreciate the feedback!_

_I know this is a short chapter compared to the previous two, but for me it seems to work. I personally prefer to write shorter chapters (thanks to L.E. Modessit), but will actually aim for a good stopping point regardless of length. But please, let me know what you like: shorter, more frequent updates, or longer and more complete, but less frequent, posts._


	8. Kilroy Was Here

**Day 6, mid-morning**

Probably about ¾ the way to Lothering. My knee's giving me some grief, so I decided to take a break and collect my thoughts.

Some observations:

- Lothering is a _lot_ bigger than you'd suspect from just playing the game. But that makes sense given its location and the geography of the area. Still, there's so much difference that I had to ask an oncoming traveler to confirm that it is Lothering I'm approaching. (It is.)

- The guy I talked to just stared at my glasses. I'm gonna have to do something about that. Or just get to a point where it doesn't matter.

- The road I'm on reminds me of the old Roman roads. Was it the Tevinters that built them here? It's a broad, raised, flagstone road, but it only exists in intermittent stretches. This appears to be a pretty long one; it stretches from about a half-mile to my east to completely past the town until it curves out of sight to the west. Makes me wonder if the town maintains this stretch.

- There's a large lake at the west end of town. IIRC the game maps correctly it connects to Lake Calenhad. Might be worth investigating the hiring of a boat….

- I can't really see it now, but as I started in I could spot a cluster of large buildings in the center of town. On the not unreasonable assumption that the Chantry is there, that's my final destination. (Ugh, BAD choice of words.) First steps, though, will be to lighten my load and make some money.

No, actually the first step is to take off the rugby shirt and the glasses, and hopefully draw a bit less attention to myself. Tied the shirt around my waist. Tucked the glasses in the bike shorts and stowed them as safely as possible.

On to Lothering. Hopefully all the encounters will be level appropriate.

**9:30 Dragon Age, 24 Justinian, mid-afternoon**

Wow, where to start?

I didn't get mugged or pickpocketed.

I made some money. I spent some money.

I was mistaken for a Templar recruit.

I know the date.

I met FemShep.

And I had a lunch that didn't consist of bread and cheese.

Made it into Lothering no problem, despite the grief from my knee. Carefully dodged the crap of various species, humans probably included., and made my way to the east edge of the town. I'm not sure what I expected Lothering to be like, but wasn't surprised, either. I spent most of the walk in trying to think of a RenFest joke, but I got nothing.

I found a blacksmith the easy way: I listened for hammering. (I would have tried smelling for charcoal, but there was, as expected, an interesting synergy of odors to sort out.) When I found the place I waited patiently until the smith sent one of his helpers over to speak with me. I ended up selling the darkspawn sword for a few coppers; as I suspected, it'll be used for bar stock. And the only reason I got that much was that it was relatively pure. But the blacksmith came over while I was selling the sword and examined the oak boards. He offered five silver coins for them; I ended up getting seven. I figured he was going to be reselling the boards, so I showed him the sanding disks. Turns out the smith would be using them for himself. I was mildly surprised, but also had a few more coins in my pocket.

I also had walking directions to the Chantry, but it didn't take me too long to get turned around and lose my way. I spotted a street kid and waved him down. He kept his distance at first but cautiously trotted over when I flashed a couple of coins at him.

"Ser?" he asked.

"Can you take me to the Chantry?" I asked in return.

He grinned. "Yes, ser!"

"Lead on, but not too fast," I told him, and limped after him.

He led me around a corner, down a street about fifty yards, then we took a left at a canal. Twenty yards later we turned right over a bridge and he pointed at a large building. "There you are, ser!" he said smugly.

I gave the little shit his coins (copper; I'm not a total idiot) and headed towards the Chanter board. I nodded to the sister there and headed on to the Chantry grounds. There were a couple of bored looking Templars standing guard at the building entrance, but they perked up as I approached.

"Sorry, graybeard, but you're too old for the Templars."

"Sorry, youngling, but I'm not interested." The Templar grinned while I continued. "I am, however, looking for a Chantry sister by the name of Leliana. I think she's-"

"Oh, the Orlesian sister? She's probably in the main hall." He gestured at the doors, but made no move to open them.

I looked back and forth between the pair. "Uhm, can I go in?"

"Oh, sure. Just don't cause any trouble."

These guys were way too easy going, but I wasn't going to argue. "That won't be a problem. Thanks for the help." And with that I entered the Chantry. Way too easy, I thought, but heard the Templars commenting about my clothes as the door closed.

I've visited some of the medieval cathedrals in Europe, and this place had the same feel. Tall, vaulted ceilings, lot of arches, impressive engineering, and a general air of too much money invested in something that would provide a questionable return. That's it for both the architectural and social commentary.

Unlike those old museums, though, this building was occupied by a cross-section of Lothering's citizens, along with a scattering of Templars and Sisters. And none of them were speaking with reverent, hushed tones, but rather speaking in normal tones of voice. It was actually surprisingly noisy. I looked around the long hall (sanctuary? Temple?), but didn't see the woman I was looking for. I approached a Templar, who looked me up and down.

I thought he was looking at my clothes, but apparently he had something else in mind. "You're a bit old, but look to be fit. So you wanna be a Templar?"

I tried to not smirk, but failed. "I get that a lot." I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm looking for an Orlesian sister named Leliana."

He looked around then pointed towards the altar at the other end of the building. "That might be her; but she's praying right now. Don't disturb her til she's finished."

"I won't, thank you." Never hurts to be polite, but these Templars were a lot more laid back than Bertrand and company. Then again, these fellows weren't investigating a tear in the Veil. I turned to go but the Templar stopped me.

"You sure you're not interested in becoming a Templar? You've got the look of one."

I wasn't sure what that meant, but turned him down again.

"Your choice, but if you change your mind feel free to come back."

"I'll do that, and thanks again." As tempting as getting some Templar training would be, I just didn't have the time to commit to it. And I wasn't really interested in being force-fed lyrium, either. So I headed to the front of the church, and sure enough, there was a young woman with short red hair kneeling if front of the altar, quietly chanting a prayer to the Maker. I took a seat and waited.

At this point I tried to figure out was I was going to say. How do you introduce yourself to a person who, up until a few days ago, you knew only as a fictional character? And how do you do it without sounding like a lunatic? And how do you convince her that what you have to tell her is the truth? Again, without sounding like a lunatic? And what was my plan? Do I just tell Leliana what I know then get the hell out of Dodge while I can? Or do I convince her (and myself) that I can actually be a useful participant in the events to come? I just didn't know, and, while I'm writing this, I still don't. Hell, I'm not even sure this is really happening, but I've got to act.

Maybe I dozed off. Maybe I was lost in thought. I certainly wasn't paying attention. But suddenly I heard a delightfully-accented voice say, "I know you!" I looked at the speaker and thought _holy shit, it's Commander Shepard!_

Okay, I know it wasn't Shepard, but damn if Leliana didn't look like the Shepard I generated for the ME3 demo. (And I just had an "aw, crap" moment. I'll never find out how ME3 finished. Knowing Bioware, though, it'll be fucking epic. Sigh.) And let's just say my video card couldn't do either of them justice. Anyway...

"I know you!" Leliana said. And then she took me to lunch.

No, seriously. A video game character took me to lunch. Not that I was complaining; a week spent on very short rations due to lack of appetite and fear of local parasites left me with some serious protein cravings. So Leliana and I spoke very briefly; for obvious reasons I wasn't at my sharpest. We then agreed that I needed something to eat if I was going to be at all coherent. She lead me to one of the Chantry's outbuildings that doubled as a kitchen, rummaged around the shelves, put some assorted pieces of food on a table, and sat down. I watched the whole thing in kind of an existential daze.

"I know you!" Leliana said for the third time as she sat down across from me. "The Maker showed you to me; he said champions would come to me." She poured me a mug of what I hoped was cider as she chattered. "He said there would be three champions: one angry, one reluctant, and one lost. And that all three would be needed, and that I should be their companion, along with others. But I don't know who they are. The other companions, I mean. "

I let her go on like that for a few minutes more while I thought about what she said about the champions. Three? The Warden and Alistair, certainly, but me, too? That gave me a chill; am I intended to be a Grey Warden? I'm not hero material; I can't even walk across a room without a limp. I don't know how to swing a sword. Anyway, enough wangst. I refocused on Leliana.

"I've dedicated myself to the Chantry and now the Maker has rewarded me for my faith." She didn't say that smugly, or with any tone of self-satisfaction, but rather matter-of-factly, like she'd just realized what happened. "Oh, where are my manners? Please, eat." She slid a plate towards me. "And let me introduce myself: I-"

I raised a hand and quickly said, "Wait." I knew I had a decision to make regarding my knowledge of this 'verse. If my info was going to be taken seriously I needed to come right out and show that it could be. The decision was made in less time than it took you to read this. "You are Leliana, sister of the Chantry." At her look of surprise I continued. "I'm not a spy, I haven't paid anyone for this information, and I'm certainly not trying to frighten you."

"I'm not frightened," Leliana said quietly, "but I do believe you have an advantage over me. The Maker may have shown you to me, but he didn't reveal your name. Or your country; you have an interesting accent. It's very much like a dwarf's." I raised an eyebrow at that. Leliana giggled, then continued. "No insult intended. To either you or the dwarfs. But, please, I would like your name."

It just occurred to me that you'd probably like my name, too. As tempted as I am to keep you in suspense, I won't.

"It's Jeff," I said simply.

The young woman cocked her head. "Is that short for something?"

"Jeffrey."

"I see," she said slowly. "Did you know that in old Orlesian your name means 'Maker's Peace'?"

That gave me another chill. My name means pretty much the same thing in French. (Seriously. Look it up.) Either Bioware or the multiverse is officially fucking with my head.

"I did not know that," I lied, but it seemed like the right thing to say. And I kind of wanted to believe the lie anyway.

"That's all right, but I think it's a sign from the Maker." I must have looked skeptical because Leliana continued, "No, I mean it! You were meant to be here; you're meant to help bring peace to Ferelden."

I shook my head. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I do. If anything…," I trailed off, mumbling as I did. I tried again. "I don't think I'm bringing peace; if anything I'm bringing a lot of bad news with me, and there's not much peace involved in it."

She looked back at me sympathetically. "That's all right. The Maker showed me a bit of the troubles we have ahead. And he's sent champions to help us face those troubles. And you," she laughed, "must be the reluctant one."

Funny, I would have pegged myself as the lost champion. Back to the wangst. "But I'm not a champion," I protested. "I've got a bad knee, I can't use a sword, I'm nearsighted…."

Leliana didn't change her expression. "None of those things matter. In fact, they can all be overcome. Haven't you heard stories of broken heroes?"

"I'm not a hero!" I'm not a savior, either. See what I mean? Real heroes don't quote Styx.

Leliana smiled at me. "You're more a hero than you realize. The Maker told me so." She gestured at my plate. "Please, eat your dinner."

So I did.

_A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, but I just spent a week dealing with a corrupted operating system caused by a hard drive fault. The easiest solution turned out to be buying a new hard drive and reinstalling everything from scratch. Of course, that meant working on that instead of this fic, so I'm running well behind of where I'd like to be right now. Still, the ideas are flowing, some typing is getting done, and the .doc files are safe!_


	9. Training Montage

**24 Justinian (day 6), late evening**

man screaming won't stop but fades; woman screaming and she sees something and then me? dragon looking at me? quiet falling another dragon sees me! speaks to me!

Okay, I'm sitting in the Chantry's main hall. A nightmare, a real one, woke me up about 10 minutes ago. I scribbled down what I could remember and now I'm trying to square that against the situation.

The man screaming was probably the Warden recruit who died. As to why he faded out instead of cutting off I couldn't say.

The woman was probably The Warden. Her scream cut off then she gasped in fright. Twice. Once when looking me, then at something else. I turned to follow her gaze and I'm surprised I didn't have the piss scared out me. A dragon, the archdemon, was looking at us. I _know_ it was looking at me. I stumbled backwards and fell. I don't know what happened to the woman.

The fall was peaceful, and took a long time. It felt nice. I didn't even get worried when the second dragon showed up. It circled around me a couple of times staring at me with a curious eye. "You," it hissed, "do not belong here."

"I know," I called, "but-

"I will examine you more closely when I have the time. I do not have the time now. Leave!"

And I woke up. I scrambled around and found the journal and got the basics down. I threw on some clothes and came over to the main hall to make sense of it. The Joining; it had to be. The first dragon was the archdemon. The second dragon was Flemeth? In dragon form. Rescuing the Warden and Alistair.

Ostagar happened tonight.

So now what? ….

Someone's coming; looks like Leliana.

It is.

Objections and answers? Glasses in Orlais?

**Later evening**

"You need lenses?" Leliana asked as she approached. "You weren't wearing them earlier."

Surprise. "They draw too much attention," I answered. "And I only need them to see things at a distance. But how do know what they are?"

"Some people in Orlais use them. But you're right: I haven't seen anyone in Ferelden with them, and Fereldens do tend to stare. But are you well? Could you not sleep?"

Shook my head. "Nightmare woke me up. Came in here to calm down." I held up the journal. "And write about it. But I can't figure out what to say."

"Well, take a moment and think about it. You've answered one of your objections, and I have the answer to another. I'll be but a moment."

I thought about what Leliana said but it didn't make much sense at the time. It made less when she returned carrying a cloth, a vial, and, ominously, a small knife.

"Your knee is injured, you said?"

I just nodded.

"This should take care of that."

"What is it?"

Leliana gave me an odd look. "It's a healing draught. But we'll be using it in a poultice." She sat down next to me and nodded at my leg. "I'll need to put this directly on your knee."

But I thought…. "Can't I just drink it?"

"Oh, you could, but it will work much better if we put it directly on your knee."

Made sense. I stood up and started to unbutton my pants.

"You don't need to do that; just roll up your trouser leg."

I finished unbuttoning and started to drop trou. "These pants don't roll up well. Just do what you've got to do and I'll pull'em back up." My jeans hit the floor with a soft clank; I have a few things in my pockets. Leliana laughed when saw my briefs. Aqua with horizontal stripes. At least they were clean. "Yeah, I know. Just wrap me up."

Leliana held up the knife. I shuffled backwards. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you, but the poultice will work better if I scratch your skin."

I wasn't happy with that, but figured she knew what she was doing.

"Relax."

"Easy for you to say."

"Don't be such a baby. It's this one, right?"

No, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, but let me have my bits of drama, okay? I flinched a couple of times, and it was over. I checked my knee; Leliana hadn't even drawn any blood. There were some stinging red lines running across my knee. I've had worse just cleaning house, but, what can I say? Sometimes I'm just a wuss.

As I watched Leliana held up a thickly layered bandage. She opened the vial and poured the contents into the cloth then applied it to my knee. I instantly felt the stinging from the scratches fade away. Leliana quickly and expertly tied the bandage into place.

"How is that?"

I pulled my jeans back up. "Feels…interesting. Kind of cool, warm, and itchy all at the same time."

Leliana smiled. "That means it's working. Leave it til morning, and you should be good as new." She winked at me. "Just don't tell the Mother or any of the sisters what we did; I'm not supposed to have access to the chest we keep the draughts in."

"You're secret's safe," I answered distractedly. I was paying attention to how my knee was reacting. It felt like it was being gently inflated by a bike pump.

"Please. Sit. Tell me about your dream." Leliana said.

Oops, mood shift. "I… don't know that it was a dream." I didn't sit; instead I turned around to look towards the altar. "I… felt a man die. And one of your champions; she's a Grey Warden. I heard her scream. Then dragons." I paused, trying to decide if I should mention the battle.

"One of the champions is a Grey Warden?"

"Both of the other two, actually. One man, one woman."

Leliana was quiet for a moment, then finally asked, "Are you a mage? Or a seer?"

I shook my head. "No. I just seem to be able to know things sometimes. But I do think I'm connected to the Fade somehow." Which would explain the dreams from the last few days. And if the dreams continue? That won't be fun. "But, that was my nightmare."

Another moment of quiet. "Except for the man dying, it didn't seem that bad. Why don't you try to sleep again? Let the poultice do its work, and think on your dream " I heard her stand up then felt her hand on my shoulder. "Do not trouble yourself tonight. Wait til the morning, and things will be bright and clear." She reached over and turned my face towards hers. "Enjoy the peace of the evening. Do not dwell on troubles you have not. Lie still, rest your body and soul."

As sappy as it was, I actually smiled at the verse. "Was that a prayer or a poem?"

"A little of both." She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. "Go back to bed."

"Very well, mother."

Leliana laughed softly at that. "Until tomorrow," she said, and turned to walk away.

I watched her leave then sat down to write about our conversation. And now I need to make a decision: what do I tell her about Ostagar?

I sat and thought about that long enough to fall asleep. Leliana woke me up and ordered me to bed. She let me write this last bit down, though.

In the interest of clarifying things I'm NOT sleeping in Leliana's bed. I've got a bunk in the Templars' quarters.

So there.

**25 Justinian (day 7), sunrise**

Woke up just before dawn and for the first time in years I didn't get a twinge in my knee when I stood up. Tried flexing, bending, stretching. NO PAIN!

If this was a movie the Rocky theme would start playing and you'd see me running about 20 miles. I'm not that stupid. I dressed quickly, but put on the bike shorts instead of jeans and went outside. The Templar training ground is about 50 yards square, so I walked around it a couple of times then stretched, then tried a gentle jog for a couple of laps. EXCELLENT! Picked up the pace slightly. STILL NO PAIN! But I'm out of shape. But that can be fixed. I decided on one last test: I ran a slow sprint across the yard. Other parts protested, but the bad right knee said GO!

Take _that_ arthroscopic surgery!

Got back to the barracks as the Templars woke up. Guess I'll get some breakfast and then we'll see.

**25 Justinian, mid-afternoon**

Ouch, and not ouch. About the only part of me not protesting today's treatment is my right knee.

I took some ribbing from the Templars regarding my clothes: bike shorts, rugby shirt, Nikes. Black socks. Feel free to join in the laughing.

I was thinking about going on a short run after breakfast, but Leliana showed up. She wasn't wearing her Chantry robes, but a leather shirt, pants, and boots. Brown, supple, with metal rings sewn on in strategic places. And very practical; the only skin showing was her hands, neck, and head. (Sorry to all you pervs out there. [But, it was still kinda hot.])

Yesterday, after I ate, we'd talked a bit more. It took a little while, but I finally convinced her I really didn't know how to fight with local weapons. With that she left to speak with the Templars, and came back to tell me she and they were going to assess my skills. I'm surprised I didn't have nightmares about that.

Anyway, she bade me good morning and suggested I put on some long pants. I pulled on my jeans and trotted back out to the training yard. Ser Bryant (the head Templar for Lothering) was waiting with Leliana. He was wearing a loose shirt and breeches, and was eyeing me skeptically.

"I take it your knee feels better?" Leliana asked.

I couldn't help but grin. "Best it has in years. I've just gotta make sure I don't do something to reinjure it."

"Let's see if we can avoid that."

I looked back and forth between the two. "So what's the plan?"

Leliana and Ser Bryant looked at each other, but the Templar spoke up first. "Well, the Sister here wants me to spar with you for a bit. But you seem a bit old for that."

"I think he might surprise you," Leliana said.

"We'll see about that," Bryant said.

"I don't know about that," I said at the same time.

"You need to have more faith in yourself," Leliana said.

"I know exactly how much faith I should have in myself."

Bryant laughed at that; Leliana just frowned at me.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked again.

"Let's start with grappling," Leliana said.

"Against you or Bryant?"

Leliana cocked her head and actually looked a little ticked. "You think I'll be easy?"

"I think you're less likely to hurt me."

"Oh, really now?"

"Well, not anymore."

Leliana nodded at that. "Ser Bryant?" If you would, please."

The Templar motioned me to the side. He's about my height, but a bit slimmer through the shoulders, and definitely lighter than me. But he has the physique of someone used to working hard on a regular basis; he's not ripped, but there's plenty of muscle there. And I'd been pretty much sidelined for the last five years. I didn't think I had that much age and treachery going for me, but was going to find out.

We squared off a few feet apart. "Please try not to hurt each other," Leliana said.

"No problem here," I answered.

Bryant shook his head and laughed. "You sure about this, graybeard?"

"Not really, but let's try it anyway."

Bryant raised his fists and took an almost classic boxing stance. I gave him a quick bow then crouched into a generic defensive stance. Yesterday the movement would have caused me pain; today the lack of pain made me giddy. I felt myself grinning as Bryant and I exchanged a couple of feints. Then he punched, I blocked, dodged(!) his follow-up, dodged again, then held my hand and backed away while laughing.

"I'm sorry," I said, bouncing up and down, "but my knee doesn't hurt!" I spun to face Leliana. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I spun back to Bryant. "Let's do this!"

If it was a movie I would have got knocked out by the next punch. But Bryant had a hard time dealing with tai chi, so we exchanged some blows and grips, but pulled our punches. I did better than I thought I would, but Bryant got the better of me, and after a few minutes we stopped.

"You're a lot quicker than I though you'd be," he said. "You don't move like an old man."

I rubbed my beard. "I wouldn't be so old if I shaved this off."

Bryant grinned. "We might be able to take care of that."

"My turn," Leliana said.

"Go easy on me?" I asked hopefully.

"We will see."

Leliana fought a lot like Bryant, but she caught me off guard when she kicked out a foot and caught me in the belly. It wasn't particularly hard, but it took the wind out of me and set me down on my butt. We hadn't been kicking before that; I think she was trying to show me something.

"That's enough of that," she said, sharply. "Let's try some weapons."

I wish I hadn't. We started off with small clubs to simulate knives. I received several severe simulated wounds. The only bright spot was Bryant again acknowledging how quick I was. Video game reflexes FTW.

Swords were next. Actually, practice wooden swords. I actually did a bit better with them, but despite the padded jacket they had me wear I picked up quite a few bruises. Arg. At least Bryant said I have some potential.

Leliana went to fetch a bow. Results were not encouraging. But when Bryant brought me a crossbow I felt redeemed. It felt very much like firing a rifle, and I was able to put consistently tight shot groups in the target from across the yard. I even went outside the gate and kept hitting the target from longer distances. Leliana was a better shot with the bow, but I was able to put two out of three arrows in the target from about one hundred yards.

But after that, a break, and a snack we went back to the swords and knives and even shields. The pair took turns working me over. I'm able to block with some success, but parrying is still problematic. Attacking is out of the question. But at least Bryant said I'm learning, so I guess today was a good start.

Leliana brought me a healing potion a little while ago, but told me to only drink about a third of it. It's got a faint salty scent, and it's clear, not red. L'chaim.

Not bad, but not good, either. Kind of a combination of slightly salty water, Pop Rocks, and Southern Comfort. It took the aches and bruises away, but I'm still tired, and now I'm hungry. And I need a shower.

_A/N: Kind of a slow chapter, I know, but hopefully I'm setting some things up for the future. Well, I got the hard drive replaced and my system up and running fine again, although I haven't reloaded all the software yet. Oh, and thanks to everybody who's driven my hit count to over 600!_


	10. Different Stendards

**25 Justinian, early evening**

Leliana's kind of ticked at me, but I don't really blame her. Don't really care right now, either.

I mentioned my dire need for a shower, so she took me into the town proper. I wasn't sure what her plan was, but we ended up at the medieval equivalent of an Old West bathhouse. This was another surprise for me; I knew about the ancient era bathhouses on Earth, but not about medieval ones. Then again, different 'verse, different customs. I even managed to get my clothes washed out. But I didn't have anything to change into, so I came walking out in my wet clothes. Leliana just burst out laughing when she saw me.

"I need some new clothes," I said.

"Yes. Yes, you do."

She led me to a seamstress where I ended up trading half my money for a couple pairs of light woolen trousers. We'll see how itchy they are, but I couldn't afford anything better. But then I had a facepalm moment; I remembered the box of nails and the jack stand. Either of those, if offered to the right person, could be worth a large chunk of money. I explained the situation to Leliana; she took me on a shortcut back to the Chantry, and oh, shit, Sten!

Poor guy. I'd completely forgotten about him in the excitement of meeting Leliana. But there he was: 7+ feet of stoicism locked in iron cage. I hadn't thought about what I was going to say to him, but seeing him locked up like that in real li li l l l /

Well, that's one pen down.

Seeing Sten locked up like that in real life pissed me the hell off. I mean, Sten's kind of a jerk, but he's an honorable jerk, if you get my meaning. But nobody deserves to have that done to them. "What the fuck!" was my first reaction.

Leliana looked at me with a confused expression.

I pointed at Sten. "That is wrong." I said it flatly, but I'm sure anyone listening could hear the anger in my voice. That included Sten. He turned to look in my direction. "You do not treat people like that." The game played this as a dramatic moment, and later, for comedy, but this was reality. I couldn't remember how long Sten was supposed to have been in there, but it was too long. "You just don't do that!"

Leliana was looking at me like I was crazy. "Jeff, he was put in there-"

I know why Sten was locked up, but at the time it didn't matter. "I don't care what-" I interrupted, then caught myself as something dinged. "You knew about this!"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And you're okay with this?" Sten didn't have an extra ounce of fat left on him that I could see.

"If by 'okay' you mean I knew about it, then I did."

"No! I mean, do you agree- Do you think this is the right way punish someone?"

"The Mother decided-"

"Bullshit! I asked what you think!"

Leliana looked almost panicked, but she answered calmly. "This is…harsh, by Orlesian standards, but it is accepted in Ferelden."

I took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself down. It kinda worked. I looked around but didn't see what I was looking for. "Where can I buy food? Right now!"

Leliana looked around and pointed at a nearby building. I forced myself to walk steadily to it and went in. I don't remember if Leliana followed; I didn't care. I think the place was an inn or a tavern; either way, I walked straight through the main room into the kitchen. I grabbed the first few things at hand: a hunk of bread, some roasted meat, an apple, a pitcher with some kind of liquid in it. A woman in the kitchen complained, but I dug a couple of coins out of my pocket and slapped them on a table. She shut up; I left.

Sten saw me leave the building. He simply watched me as I approached the cage. When I was close to him he stated in that steady voice, "I do not need your pity, human."

_Shut up, Sten._ "This isn't pity," I said as calmly as I could, which was not very. I was also trying not to gag at the sight and smell of the piss and shit hole right under the cage.

"Your charity, then; I do not need it."

_SHUT UP, STEN._ "This isn't charity." I did snap a bit.

"Then what is it?"

"This is…," I trailed off. I still don't know exactly what to call it. What's the opposite of cruelty?

"Jeff," Leliana said from behind, "he's locked up here-"

"Shut up!" I spun to face Leliana; she actually jumped back as I did. "I don't care why he's locked up; nobody deserves to be treated like this! What are you looking at!" This last was directed at some random guy who was watching the show with wide eyes.

"Nothing, ser!" He turned and hurried off. Some other, more subtle onlookers got the hint as well.

I turned my attention back to Leliana, but before I could say anything Sten spoke again. "You are not Ferelden."

"No, I'm not."

"So you are not aware of what I have done."

"It doesn't matter! Put-"

"I murdered eight farmers and their children."

Reverse whammy. I knew Sten had done that. But having him tell me that to my face, in a no-joke-this-is-for-real manner was the second psychological kick in the crotch I received in a five minute stretch. And this just wasn't dialogue in a game; this was as real as I could perceive it to be. Families were destroyed by the man in front of me. All I had to do was turn and walk away from him.

But that wouldn't make me any better than the folks who put him in there in the first place. And as screwed up as it often is, American justice isn't allowed to be (supposed to be?) cruel, even to those few who do deserve it. I'm not saying it doesn't happen, and I'm certainly not saying our system isn't harsh and too often unfair, but deliberately allowing someone to starve or dehydrate to death…? No. I can't do that. I'm a product of my upbringing, and my society, and my culture (both military and civilian).

"That doesn't matter," I finally said. "But this isn't justice for that; this is just cruel." I sighed. "In my country you would have been hanged for what you did, but until you were we would have treated you well."

"I do not deserve such treatment."

"That doesn't matter," I repeated. I tried to think of something else to say, but couldn't. So I tried to give Sten the food I was trying not to drop. "Take this. Eat it or don't; that's your choice. If you do, eat small amounts, very slowly, or you could hurt yourself. If you don't…well…."

Sten considered me for a moment. "I think I understand. You must follow your own Qun."

I shook my head. "I don't think it's that simple, but please, just take the food.

He inclined his head to me. "I will take your gift, but will think on accepting it." And with that, he took what I was offering him.

"Remember," I said, "very small amounts, and eat them very slowly."

"I will remember. What is your name?"

Sten certainly tends to get to the point. "I'm Jeff."

"Jeff." He said my name as if he were tasting it. "I am Sten, warrior of the berasod [sp?]"

"Good to meet you, Sten."

And with that Leliana and I headed back to the Chantry. We were both silent during the walk, but when we arrived Leleiana spoke.

"I will speak with the Mother about the Qunari." Her voice was small and lacking its usual self-assuredness.

I was still angry but answered politely. "Can I come with you?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, but I will tell the Mother of your compassion."

I thought about that for just a few seconds. I was still angry and probably more likely to damage my position (make that Sten's position) than do it any good. "Yeah, I think you're right."

"Are you still angry with me?"

That was a much easier question to answer. "Yes, but I understand why you didn't give it any thought. Just…go speak to the Mother. I'll talk to you later." Leliana didn't look happy, but I didn't care. We both went our own way.

I skipped dinner (sorry, it's supper here) started writing. This was tough get down. I'm trying get across how angry I am about Sten's situation without seeming melodramatic, but I just can't seem to do it. And Leliana. She's a sweet girl, no doubt, but don't forget that dark past of hers. At some level she knows what's being done to Sten is wrong, but at the same time she doesn't really acknowledge it's even being done.

I think that's the core of the issue. Life here (make that life anywhere) can be tough, harsh, even brutal. I get that. But that doesn't mean things need to be unnecessarily tough, harsh, and brutal. But the people living here haven't had the luxury of a high-tech society where the biggest problem is getting chocolate stuck in peanut butter.

So am I right to be angry at them for locking Sten up the way they did? I don't see how I'm wrong. Brutality is one thing; deliberate cruelty, even as an afterthought is another. But I'm not sure I think the cruelty was intentional; it was how things were always done, and no one gave it a second thought. These people aren't sociopaths. They're just trying to get by in a tough world the best way they can. It still doesn't mean they were right, but at least I understand their motivation. In their own rough way Fereldens (I shouldn't be calling them "these people") are like everybody everywhere else: some good, some bad, some saints, some assholes.

Gah! This is turning into a Heinlein-esque monologue on a society's relationship with its environment. Logging out.

**25 Justinian, midnight?**

I was dreaming normally for a change (!) and was suddenly trying to pick up a girl in a bar. I was even doing pretty well at it; she wanted me to go somewhere with her. That's how I know it was a dream.

But I woke up and it turned out to be Leliana whispering in my ear. "Jeffrey, I need you to come with me."

I snapped into wakefulness. "What?"

"Jeffrey, I need you come with me."

It only took me a moment to get dressed. I followed Leliana into the yard where she pulled me into some shadows. "I spoke with the Mother about the Qunari. She said he is receiving a fitting punishment for what he has done, and refused to speak of him further. So I prayed to the Maker for guidance, and he told me that you are right, and that the Mother is wrong, and that I must obey my conscience in this matter. So I am."

That's when I realized she was wearing her leathers. Hmm. "So why not wait til morning to tell me this?"

"Because I'm going to release him. I wanted to see if you would come with me."

Okay, that was a surprise. But instead of speculating about my causing canon to break I just asked, "How are we going to do that?"

Leliana giggled quietly. "There are some things I learned before I took my vows. I should be able to open the cage."

"You mean pick the lock on it?"

"Since you put it so crudely, yes."

"I'm in!"

I snuck back into the barracks to grab my knife (better to have it and not need it) and then we were off. Leliana moved both quickly and quietly; I was quiet, but slower. I was actually panting a little by the time we reached Sten's cage. Leliana didn't hesitate; she went right up to it; I was right behind her.

I don't know if Sten was a light sleeper or he was just awake. "Who is there?"

"It's Jeff. And Leliana. She's the Chantry sister who was with me earlier. The one I was yelling at." I grimaced in the dark "Sorry about that."

"I understa-." Leliana said.

"Humans chatter too much," Sten interjected. "Why are you here?"

"To set you free," Leliana said. "The Maker told-"

"I do not wish to be free. I am a murderer. I am being punished according to your laws. I accept this fate."

"But Sten, when I prayed to the Maker he told me-"

"This Maker of yours did not order me placed in this cage. That was done by the leader of your Chantry. What does she say about my release?"

Crap. Sten and his stupid honor. Should've seen that coming.

Leliana tried to argue. Poor girl. "I spoke with her and she thinks you should be released. So-"

"Then why is she not here with you? Why are you here under cover of darkness?"

Neither of us could answer that.

"I thought as much. Do not insult my honor with deceitfulness; it is all I have remaining to me."

Leliana and I stayed silent.

"I will not accept any release not allowed by the one who ordered me confined. Now be gone."

We were all quiet for a moment, then I broke the silence. "Sten, you are one stubborn son of a bitch. Come on, Leliana, let's go."

"Jeff," Sten said. "I understand the talon [sp?] of your gift, but am unable to accept the whole of it."

Knowing Sten was willing to deliberately starve himself to death shook me, but he should only have to put up with a couple more days in the cage. Still…. "You're welcome, and, thank you, too."

Leliana and I walked away in silence again. But she stopped me just short of the Chantry. "Jeffrey, I'm sorry, but I tried."

Even though I knew Sten would probably end up being okay, I was still worried about him. "I know; it's okay. But, if it means anything, you tried to do the right thing. I'll never fault anybody for that."

And then I had another "aw, crap" moment. "Speaking of which: I need to talk to you and Ser Bryant first thing in the morning." I've got to tell them about Ostagar.

"Very well. Good night, Jeffrey. And do not stay up too late writing all this down!"

Too late, I already have.


	11. Motivational Speaker

**26 Justinian (day 8), dawn**

"You were lucky, you know."

"How's that?"

"You're not a warrior. Or at least not a good one. You caught me by surprise. If you hadn't…."

"I totally agree. In fact, I think I said as much in my journal."

"Did you?"

"I'm not totally sure; I'd have to check. But you're right: I got lucky."

"You moved pretty fast though. I guess that helped, too."

"It did."

"I have to go."

"Go where?"

"I'm not sure. I just have to go. The only reason I stayed was because I was mad at you."

"Are you still?"

"I'm not sure."

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

"I know. And your mother's a nice lady."

"She is. But was it really her?"

"I think so."

"If you see her again tell her I said, 'Hi.'"

"I'll will."

"Thank you."

"Certainly. But…."

"But what?"

"But you need to be careful when you come here again. I don't know how safe it is anymore. That's why I'm leaving."

"I'll be careful."

"Good luck, then."

"Thanks."

Okay, that was officially freaky. The soldier and I just standing in nothing, looking at nothing, talking about a bit more than nothing. And then he was gone and I woke up. I'm wondering what's going on with that connection to the Fade I seem to have. If this keeps up I'm not going to want to sleep. If that was really him, though, then best of luck to him.

But that soldier. I killed him for my coat. I didn't mean to

Going for a short run. Maybe a mile or so, but slow. Five minutes out then back. Hopefully it'll clear my head.

**26 Justinian, late afternoon**

Got back from the run to find Leliana and Bryant waiting for me. They both gave a "WTF are you doing?" look. I just looked back at them and said, "Rule number one: cardio." It went _way_ over their heads.

Bryant spoke up first. "You needed to speak with us?"

"Yes." I took a deep breath, bit the bullet, and decided to spit it out. "It's about the battle at Ostagar. Do you know what's going on with it?"

Bryant spoke slowly. "Aye. King Cailen raised an army to go fight the darkspawn there. The Arl of Lothering dispatched most of his own men, to include himself. Some of our Templars went as well."

I jumped in. "Have you received any word? About the battles? It's my understanding that a few skirmishes were fought successfully.

"We've received regular dispatches. And yes, you're right, all the word so far has been of successful encounters. But-"

"Two nights ago. Not last night, but the night before." I nodded to Leliana. "The night we talked in the Chantry. My nightmare; I was still trying to make sense of it. But now…." I took a deep breath. "I think I figured it out. A large portion of the King's army was destroyed. The rest retreated to avoid destruction. But the darkspawn horde are following them, and will eventually arrive here." I looked helplessly at the sister and the Templar.

They stared back at me.

"And that's it," I added.

They kept staring at me.

Then they stared at me some more.

When they started to keep staring at me I interrupted with, "Fine! Don't believe me!"

"This is," Bryant said, "difficult to believe."

My turn to stare.

"The King is…impulsive," Bryant continued, "but Teryn Loghain is a sound strategist. He wouldn't allow himself to be treated so."

"Look, something happened. The battle didn't go the way it was supposed to. But the army is in retreat, and Lothering's the next stop for the horde."

Leliana spoke up. "Jeffrey, this _is_ difficult to believe. I mean, I don't doubt that you believe what you're telling us, but how can we know what the actual truth is?"

"What does your gut- No, uhm, your feelings-" No, I refused to use that line. "Damnit, Leliana, I thought you said you believed in me?"

"I do, but what you're saying is very difficult to believe."

I thought about that for a moment and almost decided to use one of my trump cards. I was seriously considering saying something to her about Marjoleis, but just couldn't think of a good way to do it. "Tell you what: I'm going to go run a little a more. You talk this about this and come to your own conclusions. And when I come back we'll spar and you can beat the snot out of me. Sound like a plan?"

They both looked at me like I was crazy. Which was okay, because I felt kind of crazy anyway. I turned and jogged away.

I didn't know where I was going, but ended up only having a few minutes to think about the situation. It was a day and a half or so since the Ostagar battle. My best guess on distance there was about thirty leagues/ninety miles. Foot armies move slowly, but a forced march could cover that distance in two to three days depending on how motivated and/or desperate they are. Scouts or riders would be significantly faster, so we should have word from Ostagar today. Assume Loghain's army covers the refugees but still chooses to sacrifice Lothering. That would probably slow them by at least a day. The game wasn't at all clear on the timeline involved, but the Warden and company arrive well after the first wave of refugees has streamed in. Let's make that three to five days after the battle, but at least one day behind the army. So by that admittedly shaky analysis we should start seeing messengers today, refugees tonight, army units tomorrow, and the Warden no earlier than the day after that (28 Just), but probably at least another day later.

"Vasheden [You know what? I'm going to quit putting questionable spelling tags in and just take my best guess at non-English-counterpart words. (If I was at home I could just look them up. I'm really missing the internet right now.)], don't you anything better to do than stare at me?"

Yeah, I ended up in front of Sten. At that point I figured my subconscious knew what it was doing, but that information still hadn't reached the front of my head yet. I'd just finished that operational analysis and fired back a wonderful answer. "If I did I wouldn't be here now, would I?"

"So why are you here, then?"

"I still haven't figured that out."

Sten disapproved. "Then perhaps you should depart until you do figure out your need to bother me."

"No. If I do that I'll forget about bothering you all together."

"That would be preferable to you staring at me as if I were a caged animal."

Ding? "But you're choosing to stay there. Unless I can get the Chantry to release you, right?"

Sten sighed a much put-upon sigh. "I believe I told you and the red-haired one that last night."

"But the Chantry won't release you unless-" Ding. "Unless they can find a proper authority to which to release you. And they will release you to a Grey Warden." I didn't really say that to Sten, but surprise very briefly crossed his face.

"A Grey Warden? Here? Why?"

Good, now I had his attention. "There's not one here right now, but there should be in a few days; maybe even in a couple of days. As to why, I think you know that."

"The Blight."

I nodded. "Yep. And the Wardens are gonna need all the help they can get. And if they get you released you'll need to be at your best. So eat. Slowly. You'll need your strength."

Sten nodded slowly. "I understand."

I nodded back. "I'll check in on you later."

I turned and jogged back to the Chantry. I was actually feeling confident about the upcoming events, but I also feel like I'm running a very dangerous balancing act. I need to link up with the Warden and get out of Lothering. I need to figure out what I'm going to do long- and very long-term. And I need more money.

I got back to the Chantry and saw neither Leliana nor Bryant, so I decided to take care of that last item. I changed into some pants (ugh, itchy wool), grabbed the box of nails, and headed back out. I went to the smith I'd seen before; he promptly asked me if I had any more of the sanding discs.

"Sorry, but that's all I had. But tell me what you think of these." I showed the smith the nails. The fellow had a minor freakout when he realized they were made of steel. We didn't haggle hard, but when I explained the best I could how they were made, the man ended up giving me a couple of gold coins. Did I get ripped off? Probably, but cash-wise I'm a lot better off now.

Before I left the smith, though, I had to do one more thing. I told him, very briefly, and fairly vaguely, about the approaching darkspawn horde.

He looked at me like I was half-crazy. (I'm sure he figured the other half of crazy was how cheap I sold him the nails.) But I gave him my best no-nonsense stare. "I'm serious about this," I said. "If you don't believe me at least get some things ready to go. And spread the word. Quietly." I turned to go but the smith stopped me.

"Are you certain of this?"

"I am."

The man considered me for a few seconds then nodded as if he were making up his mind about something. "A moment," he said and ducked back into his shop. When he came back he held up a small stack of silver coins. "A fairer deal."

I told you he ripped me off. But I took the coins and gave him a respectful nod. He nodded back, and I returned to the Chantry yet again.

Leliana was waiting for me. "So, what did you and Bryant decide?"

"We're still not sure we believe what you've told us, but…." Leliana gave me a scared look. "The vision the Maker gave me; I believe we're facing dangerous times, and that's why you're here. To help us through them. But," she continued, "Ser Bryant is going to the Arl's estate and will see if they have heard any news of the battles at Ostagar."

"And you, what have you been doing?"

"Running. And I spoke with Sten. And I…." I stopped before telling her about the smith.

"And you what?"

"Nothing. Just thinking. About things."

She gave me a look that said she didn't quite believe me. "It's no matter, then." The look changed to predatory. "We need to spar."

I groaned. "Yes, we do."

I changed and went back out in the yard for my fair share of abuse. We warmed up with some hand-to-hand; I pushed Leliana around a bit, but that's probably due more to my size and weight advantage. But then we switched to practice weapons. Leliana took the simulated knives again; I got a padded buckler and a wooden sword.

"Why not knives?" I asked as I strapped on the shield.

"I don't think they suit your style."

"I didn't know I had a style."

"You don't; that why knives don't suit you."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I think it's bad. You're very quick, for…."

"For an old man?"

Leliana actually blushed at that. "I didn't want to insult you, but your beard makes you look too old. It doesn't suit you."

Thinking back on it I wonder if she was flirting with me. At the time the comment just went right by. I rubbed my whiskers. "Yeah, and it's itchy, too. But you said I'm quick?"

"Oh, yes, very! But Ser Bryant, he thinks you should fight with sword and board. He says you should be able to use your size to simply overbear your foes. But Ser Bryant is a Templar, and every Templar is taught to think the same way." She grinned. "They don't tend to be very imaginative.

Thinking about what Bryant said; it makes sense. I'm 68 inches, 200 pounds. I carry the weight pretty well, but could stand to lose a bit. (I've lost a few pounds since arriving; my jeans are pretty loose.) But the height thing: at home I'm about average, maybe even a bit on the short side. Here I'm still about average, but seem to be a bit on the tall side. That, and the weight, and broad shoulders make me look larger than I am. Anyway….

"But what do you think?" I asked.

"_I_ think you'd be good with knives, but you just don't seem comfortable with them. I can't say why, but you just don't."

"So you think sword and shield works for me, too?"

"I do. Are you ready?"

"Let's do it!"

We started slow but picked up the pace as I got a feel for the buckler. I could just hold my own against Leliana if I didn't try to attack. Maybe Bryant's right.

But I was ticking Leliana off. "Attack me!" she snapped at one point. "I am not some glass vase that you need to be afraid of breaking!"

So I dived in, trying to score some points where I could. I ended up getting the snot beat out of me. Literally. I actually managed to block a quick combo _and_ counterattack. I caught Leliana on the arm; she yelped. Of course, me being the noble idiot I am, I stopped fighting to see if she was okay. She didn't stop and jabbed me in the gut. I doubled over and caught my nose on her elbow.

Game over. I dropped my sword and brought my hand up to my face. Leliana yanked up the small shield and jabbed me, hard, in the armpit, and then jabbed me again, hard, in the back. I went down with a grunt.

"Now you're dead!" Leliana snapped. "You weren't before, but now you are! Never stop fighting! Not even when you have less than nothing left to fight with!" She turned away and walked out of my small field of vision.

I didn't have any air, but thought _Yes, drill sergeant!_ It took a few tries, but I finally took a deep breath, and started to get up. Leliana walked back up and dumped a bucket of water on me. It actually felt pretty nice. But then she knelt down next to me.

"You're pissing me off!" Yes, she used that expression. "When we practiced earlier, you were holding back. Against both myself and Ser Bryant. Why, I can't say, but you were. And you're holding back now. Now, get up, fight, and mean it!"

I staggered back up, found the sword, and started again. It didn't go well. I was on the ground again a few minutes later. Leliana helped me up. We started again, and she helped me back down.

Now she was really pissed and started swearing at me in Orlesian. (I know it was swearing because I asked her later.) She stood me up, let me get some water, and started on me again. At one point she clipped me on the collar bone; it hurt like hell, but a flash of anger slipped through the pain and I ended up hitting her hard, on the shoulder I think, and knocked her away.

Leliana stood there panting and smiled at me. "Good! Keep doing that! Don't hold back!" And she charged.

Whatever inspiration I'd had left me, and I ended up playing defense again. I tried to harass her with the occasional strike, but it just wasn't working.

Leliana finally jumped back, swearing again. "Is it because I'm a woman?"

"What? No!"

She stepped forward and got in my face. "Then why will you not fight?"

"I thought I was!"

More swearing. I can't even figure out how to transcribe it. "Don't think! Just react!" she said then tried to knee me in the ball.

I'm way too quick to let that happen. I twisted to protect myself and shoved Leliana away hard enough to knock her off her feet.

"Good!" She jumped back up and came at me fast and hard. I dodged a blow, caught another on my shield, and, purely out of reflex, punched her hard in the ribs with my sword hand. I must have had my weight behind it because Leliana grunted and staggered away. "Good!" she gasped, but now she held up a hand. "I think. You struck. Me a bit. Too hard," she panted. And then she came at me again, even faster.

I didn't have time to think; I did just react. Somehow I knocked her hand away from me as I dropped my shoulder into her. We collided; there was no way I could lose that. Leliana literally bounced off me and went straight into the ground. I heard and saw the breath get knocked out of her. I winced. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Aw, son of a bitch."

Leliana had sat back up just enough to aim a blow at my groin. She stopped it short, fortunately, but gave me a disappointed look. "What did I say about never quitting the fight?" She fell back with a groan. "That did hurt, though. I believe we are finished. For now." I pulled her to her feet.

"Well done!" came Bryant's voice. "You're coming along strongly!"

I turned and waved at the Templar. There was a second man standing there; it was hard to tell without my glasses, but it appeared to be another Templar. I walked over to the pair; as I got closer I could see the second Templar appeared to be somewhat battered.

"Jeff," Bryant said as I approached, "this is Ser Loren, one of our Denerim brothers."

Loren was glaring at me.

Oh shit, third guy.

_A/N: Wow, 1000+ hits! Thank you, everybody! I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I hope you're enjoying what I've done so far. I will say, however, that I'm a bit worried about the pacing. I think I've slowed down a bit too much, so I'm going to try to get the Warden into the story in the next update, even if I have to run it out a few (hundred) extra words. But if you're cool with how things are say so and I'll keep going the way I have been._


	12. Stop Digging

**27 Justinian (day 9), sunrise**

Yet another weird dream. I walked around some kind of ruins. Nobody else there, but had the definite feeling I was being watched. I've seen enough horror movies to know I probably was. I did most of the walking backwards.

To continue from yesterday: saying that third guy/Loren freaked out upon seeing me would an accurate description of the situation. To say that he tried to kill me would be even more accurate. The dude pulled his sword and lunged at me when he saw me. Compared to Leliana he was moving in slow motion. I basically pulled the same move against him that I'd just used on her; but bouncing off his armor hurt a lot more.

Bryant threw himself between the two of us. "What in Andraste's name are you doing?" he yelled at Loren.

Loren looked up from where I'd knocked him to the ground. "This man is an apostate!"

"This man is no such thing!" Bryant snapped back.

"He knew what was going to happen at Ostagar!"

"Hey," I jumped in, "I tried to warn you about that!"

"And then you ran off in your, your, your, demon cart!"

Bryant turned to stare at me. "Demons? You consort with demons?"

"No!"

"He does!"

"Bullshit!"

Things kinda went downhill from there.

Bryant and Leliana ended up keeping Loren and me apart until he (Loren) managed to calm down. However, there was much yelling and wailing and gnashing of teeth involved. Rending of garments; not so much, fortunately. But things were loud enough that the Mother herself ended up coming out to see what was going on. I'd heard stories about old nuns and the Mother certainly lived up to them. She ordered Loren to shut up; he did. She ordered Bryant to shut up; he did. She just glanced at Leliana; she shut up. I'd like to say I was immune to her powers, but I'd be lying. I shut up, too.

"All of you, come with me! Now!"

Loren glared at me as we followed the Mother, but I made sure Bryant was between the two of us. We followed her to her office in the main Chantry building. She had us all take a seat and offered us tea. Everybody declined.

"Very well," she said as she poured herself a cup. "Now, what seems to be the problem here?"

"This man is an apostate!" Loren shouted.

"Quietly, young man," the Mother said as she stirred her tea. "And who are you?"

"Loren, Mother, Kight-in-training to the Denerim Chantry."

"We are well met, Loren." She turned to face me. "And you. You are Leliana's friend, are you not? Jeffrey, I believe?"

"I am, ma'am." I felt like I was talking to an officer, plus the extra politeness couldn't hurt.

She took a sip of her tea and stared at me over the brim of the cup. Intimidating. "You have been no trouble since your arrival, except perhaps to take Leliana's mind off her duties. But that is a small matter, and one I will discuss with Leliana at a more appropriate time." She put the cup down. "Although I do understand you have concerns with how we are treating the Qunari?"

Eep? "Yes, ma'am, but that's not important right now."

The Mother smiled at that; I think I might have passed a small test. "I agree. What is important right now is the accusation against you. You do realize how serious Ser Loren's charge against you is?"

Oh, yeah, I did. "Yes, ma'am, I do."

"And what do you say to it?"

"Ser Loren is mistaken."

She took another sip of tea while considering me. "I see," she finally said. She looked at Loren. "And why would you make such an accusation?"

Loren was having a hard time restraining himself but still spoke politely. "He knew what would happen at Ostagar. He-"

The Mother held up a hand. "Wait! What happened at Ostagar? Is there news?"

Bryant stepped in. "Yes, Mother." He relayed, fairly accurately, the circumstances surrounding King Cailen's defeat, at least as I understood them. But he added some details. Loghain left the field to preserve his army and has been conducting a fighting retreat towards Lothering. The horde is pushing north, following Loghain. Both armies should be here within two days, although Loghain will attempt to lure the darkspawn horde away from Lothering. Loghain also believes the Grey Wardens deliberately betrayed Cailen and set a bounty on any surviving Wardens. (Which explains a couple of things.) Anyway….

"This," the Mother said slowly, "is troubling."

I resisted saying the obvious.

She looked to Loren. "You say Jeffrey knew this would happen?"

"Yes. Well, not in so many words."

"Then what words did he use?"

"He said something bad would happen at Ostagar, and that we, Ser Bertrand, Ser Alton, and I, shouldn't go there. Then he threw Ser Bertrand aside and jumped in his demon cart and it carried him off!"

"Threw someone aside? How? With magic?"

"Well…. I couldn't feel any. But it seemed like magic!"

"Ma'am," I interrupted, "I did shove Ser Bertrand aside, but it was purely physical. There was no magic involved."

"Mother," Bryant added, "I believe Loren is describing a technique similar to what Jeff has used on me when we sparred. There was no magic involved; only an unusual fighting style."

"I see." The Mother looked to Bryant. "And when you were sparring did you use any Templar techniques on Jeff. Specifically, those designed to combat mages?"

"No, Mother."

"Would you please do so now?"

Huh? I didn't think there'd be a problem, but I was suddenly worried.

"You see!" Loren snapped. "He's afraid. He's afraid he'll be found out."

"I'm afraid it's gonna hurt!" I retorted. I was.

Bryant shook his head. "Don't worry. Even if you are a mage this won't hurt." He reached out with his hand and placed in on my shoulder. I felt nothing, but I flinched anyway.

"You see!" Loren jumped up.

"Ser Loren," Bryant said, "he was only startled. My touch had no effect. Try for yourself."

"Yes, Ser Loren, please do," the Mother said.

Loren stepped over and grabbed my shoulder more roughly than he needed to. He concentrated for an instant, looked angry, and moved his hand to my neck. "Faa!" He clenched a fist; I thought he was going to hit me but a soundless, pressureless wave exploded from him and burst through the room. Loren looked angry and disappointed at my lack of reaction. He stomped back over to his chair and sat down; I just stared at him.

"Satisfied, Ser Loren?" the Mother asked.

No answer.

"I will take that as a 'Yes.' Ser Bryant, as the ranking Templar in Lothering, have you any objections to my deciding that Jeffrey is not apostate?"

"No, Mother."

"Very well, that matter is decided." I breathed an internal sigh of relief at that, but there was more coming. "Ser Loren, however, has made other accusations that require answers. Leliana, would you be so kind as to fetch Jeffrey's belongings?"

Leliana jumped out of her chair. "Yes, Mother; right away!" She shot out of the room.

"Jeffrey, Ser Loren has accused you of being maleficarum; specifically, you are accused of consorting with demons."

Eep!

"But why would he make such an accusation?" Bryant asked.

"Because of the demon cart!" Loren said.

"Jeffrey, what is this demon cart Ser Loren speaks of?"

Well for one thing, it's a Subaru, not a Plymouth, but I didn't say that. "A machine, ma'am. I abandoned it a few days ago. But it's just a machine, built by men and women. It's no more demonic than any of my other possessions." Which the Mother had had the foresight to have fetched. She may not look it, but she's pretty sharp. "Or miraculous," I added lamely.

She nodded. "We shall see. But to the other accusation: that you knew about the events at Ostagar before they occurred. Is this true?"

"Am I being accused of anything here?"

"Should you be?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to."

"You see! He admits it!"

"Ser Loren, please." And back to me. "You seem overly cautious."

"Well, as you can tell from my accent-" The Mother smiled at that. "-I'm a foreigner. But at the moment I'm subject to your laws and really don't want to run afoul of them, especially by accident."

"I understand. You seem to have a good understanding of our laws, however."

I nodded. "This seems to be a grey area rather than a black and white one. I'm just trying to figure out where I stand."

"I see. There are cases where people have second sight, and can tell fortunes, but are otherwise without magic. These people have a connection to the Fade. The Chantry allows these people to go about their lives if it can be shown that they can do so without endangering others."

"Mother," Loren said, "if I may?" At her nod he continued. "Ser Bertrand, Ser Alton, and I were dispatched to the area in which we encountered…him, after feeling a powerful incursion of magic. We were afraid the Veil had been torn. The only unusual thing we discovered was him."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"I believe it was seven or eight days ago."

"Ser Bryant, did you sense anything? Or any of your Templars?"

"No, Mother, but distance is always a factor in these matters."

"I see. Ah, Leliana, let's see what you have for us."

Leliana gave me an apologetic look and set my bags on the Mother's desk.

"Let's see what we have here," the Mother said, and started unpacking. She hmm'ed at quite a few of the items, but put others right back in the bags. Then she held up the Home Depot bag. "What is this material?"

"Nylon, ma'am."

"Fascinating. And this?"

"A jackstand. It's used to raise heavy objects. And that's calcium, lime, and rust remover. It's a weak acid, so please be careful."

"Are you an alchemist?"

"No, but I'd hoped to sell it. I'm stranded and need the money."

That earned me a look. "This?"

"Lubricating oil."

"And this?"

"A communicating device. But I'm too far from home for it work."

"How does it work?"

I wasn't about to give a lecture in radio theory. "I don't really know, ma'am."

"Show me how it's used."

"Yes, ma'am." I took the phone, opened it, didn't turn it on, and shrugged. I showed everyone the blank screen. "Not working." I gave it back to the Mother; she looked at it, closed the cover, and put it down.

"What's this?"

"A Swiss army knife."

"Swiss?"

"Crafters from my home. May I?" I took the knife and showed off a couple of the tools. Bryant was fascinated; even Loren looked curious.

"Ingenious," Leliana said, "a crafter's toolset that can fit in one's pocket."

"Don't know that I'd call it a crafter's set…." Loren started.

"But even those tools are better than having nothing at hand," Bryant opined.

The Mother cleared her throat and stared them quiet. "And this?"

"It's a clock, ma'am. But designed to wear on my wrist."

She looked carefully at the face. "The symbols keep changing." Now she looked accusatory. "How does this happen?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but I'm pretty sure it's not magic."

"Ser Bryant; Ser Loren?"

Bryant simply shook his head; Loren actually looked a little ticked off. I hadn't considered that they had a standing detect magic field up.

"Very well." The Mother started repacking.

"Ma'am, if I may?"

"Certainly."

I stood up and started repacking items, making sure I retrieved my glasses and putting my watch back on. The Mother didn't bat an eye at the glasses, but found the watchband "clever." I got everything tucked away, put the bags on the floor, and took my seat again.

"Ser Bryant, Ser Loren," the Mother said, "did either of you detect any magical presence, of any sort, in Jeffrey's possessions?"

Both answered negative.

"Very well. Unless either of you have objections, I have decided that these items, while unusual and finely crafted, represent no magical threat."

"No objections!" Bryant said.

"Ser Loren, did this demon cart present any magical auras?"

"No, Mother."

"Very well. Unless you can provide me evidence otherwise my decision is that the cart you saw was yet another unusual and finely crafted item. One that I would be interested in seeing myself, were circumstances more accommodating. Now," the Mother said turning back to me, "let us consider your foresight. Loren stated you knew what would happen at Ostagar; is this correct?"

I had a story and was sticking to it. "I knew that something bad was going to happen there, but didn't have any details."

"And you passed this feeling on to Ser Loren?"

"It was more than a feeling, ma'am. That's why I chose to…separate myself from Ser Loren and his companions."

"Why did you find it necessary to do that?"

Damn, I walked right into that again. "Bertrand was suspicious of my motives for being in Ferelden. They wanted me to accompany them to Ostagar to speak with Teryn Loghain."

Another calculating look from the Mother. "And why are you in Ferelden?"

That's a very good question. "I was sent to-"

"Help defeat the Blight!" We all turned to look at Leliana. "The dream the Maker sent to me, when he showed you to me, that happened the same time Ser Loren says they felt the disruption."

"Uh, yes, Sister," the Mother said slowly. "We discussed this already, and I do not believe that this is pertinent to the question at hand."

"But don't you see that-"

"Sister Leliana! We will speak of this at the appropriate time. Now is not that time. You will remain silent or you will leave this room."

"Mother, you-"

"Out! Now!" The Mother raised a warning finger. "Or I will have Ser Bryant remove you."

Leliana clenched her jaw then leaned over to me. "Stay strong," she whispered in my ear. With that she got up and left.

The Mother visibly relaxed and looked at me. "So now you are here in Lothering, and bothering my Templar Commander and one of my sisters."

"He hasn't been a bother, Mother."

"Thank you, Ser Bryant, but I didn't mean it like that. He has, though, been taking some of your time, and has Sister Leliana very distracted, as you just saw." She looked back to me again and sighed. "Your foresight; how does it come to you?"

"In dreams, ma'am. Although the dreams aren't always clear. I usually need some time to make sense of what they mean."

"I see. But when you have these dreams, are there others there?"

"I'm…not sure what you're asking."

"Are there other people in your dreams? Not," she continued quickly, "just people you watch going about their business, but people who approach you and speak with you, as if you're awake?"

I saw what she was getting at. "I don't think so. When I have these dreams it's like I'm…," I scrambled for a plausible explanation, "like I'm looking at paintings, except they move, and I can hear them, but I can't really interact with them. If you know what I mean."

"But what distinguishes these prophetic dreams from your normal dreams?"

That was an easy one. "The prophetic dreams: they feel like I'm awake. They're very…clear. Very vivid."

"I see. Ser Bryant, you say you've detected no hints of demonic possession?"

"Yes, Mother."

"And you haven't either Ser Loren?"

"No, Mother. I mean, yes-"

"I understand." She took a long sip of her tea. "Jeffrey. Your case is strange. You are no mage, at least as far as we're able to tell, but the dreams you describe to us seem to come from a deeper level of the Fade than is usual, even for a seer. I have decided, for your safety and ours, that you be taken into custody here and be remanded to the Circle of Magi as soon as is practical."

Well, crap.

_A/N: just for the record, I like writing dialogue._


	13. Cooldown

**27 Justinian, mid-afternoon**

For the record, I've been in a cell normally reserved for rogue mages for the last 30 hours or so. I've got a cot, a couple of blankets, a chamber pot, and my journal. Leliana brought it to me last night when she brought my dinner; apparently the Mother said it was okay. At least they're treating me better than Sten. I didn't have anything else to do so I wrote until I reached a dramatic stopping point. And then a second one. Problem: I'm running out of space in this book. I've got about a quarter of the pages left. I'll ask Leliana if she can find me a new journal. It'll probably be expensive, though.

For being a Templar, Bryant's actually a pretty nice guy, and pretty laid back. He wasn't happy with the Mother's decision, but took it in stride. I think he was hoping I'd join the order. Loren looked pretty pleased, but I can't say that I blame him. Bryant told me the Templars at Ostagar took pretty heavy losses; both there and during the retreat. Loren's blaming the most convenient person for that.

I'm nicely battered and bruised from yesterday's workout, and feeling pretty achy. But a bigger problem is my gut; I've got some gastro-intestinal distress going on. To be honest, I'm surprised this hasn't happened earlier, but I've been pretty careful about what I've been eating. Don't know if it's just a gas bubble or something more sinister. I'll keep you posted.

Leliana's stopped by to see me several times and she seems pretty upset. She won't tell me what's going on, but I think she took some blowback from her outburst in the Mother's office. She did promise to check up on Sten and the latest news is that he claims to feel better.

The general mood, from what I can tell, is tense, and moving towards fear. As expected, refugees are moving into town. Some are stopping, others, along with some Lotheringites (?) are moving on. Some elements of Loghain's army are here, but word is the local Arl didn't survive.

So, what to do? I've tried meditating a couple of times, but I'm so unfocused that it just didn't work. I've read back through the journal a couple of times. I'm surprised my writing is legible enough to read. I'm also surprised at how focused I seem to be; I clearly remember my breakdowns. The lucid bits not so much.

**27 Justinian, sundown**

Leliana brought me dinner but I don't have much of an appetite. Partly from the gas, but partly because the mage tower isn't a place I'd like to end up at.

I did ask Leliana about finding me a new journal. She said she'd look for one, but it might cost a bit.

"That's okay. I've got a little bit of money."

"I'm sorry you're in here."

"I've already told you it's not your fault."

"But you shouldn't be in there; you're needed out here."

"Bust me out then."

"I can't. I could be banished from the Chantry."

"I'm joking, you know."

Leliana put her face in her hands and took a deep breath.

"Don't worry about it," I said.

She looked back up at me. "I can't! Not worry about you, I mean."

"Don't. Look, you brought me my journal. You've come by to talk; you've brought me meals. You're doing a lot more than you should be. And I am grateful for that. But please, don't get yourself in trouble, or feel guilty about me being here." I grimaced. "I walked into that pretty much on my own."

Leliana actually smiled at that.

"See?" I teased. "You think I did, too. Look, I'm not mad at you. I promise. If I'm mad at anything, right now it's at…whatever…confluence of…forces that had me end up here." I stood up and started to wave my arms around. "Ow!" I banged my hand on the bars.

Leliana laughed at that.

"Heartless wench!"

She laughed again and stood up. "I'll see you in the morning. Maybe not 'til later, though. I might go see if I can find you a new book."

"I'll be here."

Her expression turned serious. "Don't be mad for being here. The Maker has great things fated for you, but not every step on a journey is an easy one. Sleep well."

"Good night."

I watched her leave then considered her words. If the Maker's looking for a great hero I'm not that sure he picked right one. But again, why am I here? Am I supposed to be the hero? Am I a red shirt? Or somewhere in between? Why the hell did I come to Lothering in the first place? Why didn't I just tell Leliana everything I could and then make a run for the border? It's like my personal decisions and external events are guiding me to a meetup with the Warden. Maybe I am the reluctant hero. Who's behind bars.

Fate is a weird thing, I guess.

**27 Justinian, late evening**

I had a discussion with my younger son a while back about time travel. He's of the opinion that mass/energy has to always be conserved, so whenever a time machine is used something has to be transferred back from the destination. Ideally that would be mass, because if it's energy….

Assume the Outback weighed 3500 pounds. 3500 lb / 2.2 lb/kg = 1590 kg

Let's say 1600 to make the math easy. 1600 kg = 1.6 x 10^3 kg

E = m x c^2

c = 300,000 km/s (or close enough) = 300,000,000 m/s = 3 x 10^8 m/s

c^2 = 3 x 3 x 10^8 x 10^8 m/s = 9 x 10^16 m^2/s^2

E = 1.6 x 9 x 10^3 x 10^16 x kg x m^2/s^2 = 1.44 x 10^20 kg m^2 / s^2 = a fucking lot of joules

So how does that compare to the Hiroshima bomb? I know modern nuclear weapons can weigh anywhere from one hundred to thousands of pounds, and they only convert a small percentage of their mass to energy. The energy in 1kg is c^2 x kg, but I'm pretty sure nowhere near that much mass was converted.

Rough guess: at least ten thousand times more energy. However I got here, I hope energy was not transferred, otherwise there's a giant hole in southeast AZ. Of course, that leads to the question of where the energy went when I arrived. Then again, there's not a giant ball of freeze in central Ferelden, so whatever brought me here either made sure both sides of the equation are equal or treats the laws of physics more like guidelines than actual rules.

See what too much time to think leads to? I'm going to sleep.

**28 Justinian (day 10), sunrise**

Ugh. Double-nightmares. The first was about Earth. Big holes in it. I wonder why? At least my guts are okay.

Second was that stupid Fade thing I've got going. I was walking around those same ruins. They looked Roman but probably weren't. And something(s) were hiding behind whatever was convenient. I pulled a sword out from somewhere when I heard something skitter by a bit too close. I'm not sure how I did it, but I think it was a combination of wanting some kind of weapon in hand and being in a dream world.

And that gives me an idea. In _Inception_ the heroes seemed like they could pull weapons out from just about anywhere. Next time I'm Fade-dreaming I'll see if I can pull off something like that deliberately.

There's a little red-haired girl bringing me breakfast. Gotta go.

**later **– According to Leliana more refugees came in overnight. There's rumors that darkspawn have been sighted nearby. Loghain's army has set up a defensive line south and east of Lothering, but it's a temporary measure to give the town time. Apparently the terrain's not favorable. Looks like Lothering will be destroyed, just like in the game. And I don't know what I could have done to prevent it. Hoping my warnings saved some lives.

**later** – Heard the sound of some fighting from the Chantry yard, but couldn't see what's going on. Frustrating! For lack of anything better to do I'm rereading this whole journal again.

**28 Justinian, mid afternoon**

I was trying not to go stir-crazier when Bryant and the Mother came to see me. I stood up when I saw them, and bowed my head to the iron lady. She acknowledged the gesture then frowned at me.

"Good afternoon, Jeffrey. It seems we have need of your help."

My help? "My help?"

"Yes. Many of Ser Bryant's Templars accompanied the Arl's levies to Ostagar. Most of them will not return."

I took a closer look at Bryant. He looked a little shell-shocked. "I'm sorry," I said.

Bryant nodded an acknowledgement.

"Thank you," the Mother said. "Now as to you: Bryant finds himself short of men, and he trusts you. If you were to give your parole to him and I, you will be released and allowed to serve under Ser Bryant until such time as we can send you to the Circle Tower."

That was unexpected. But…. "Ma'am-" Gotta stay on her good side. "-when, and how, will you send me to the Circle?"

"We will send you when we evacuate Lothering. Three, perhaps four days from now. You will be escorted by Circle Templars along with the Tower mages."

"Where will you go? And what about your Templars?" I was genuinely concerned; she and Bryant were treating me better than I really had any right to be.

"We will help keep order here in Lothering until the darkspawn horde arrives. When that happens I will accompany of my Templars to Teryn Loghain's army." She shrugged. "What happens then is in the hands of the Maker."

"And the rest of your personnel?"

She raised an eyebrow at the word, but must have understood it. "They will accompany me when I leave. Now, if you have no more questions, may I have your parole?"

Good question, that. My thought process on the answer was something like this: If I don't get released I'll have to rely on luck to get out of this cage and get out of town, with or without the Warden, which means I'm likely to end up at the Tower. If I get released then I'll probably end up breaking parole when the Warden shows up. That'll get me locked back up as soon as the Templars can grab me, or at the very least get me on their wanted list. So if I do end up travelling with the Warden and show up at the Tower the Templars there will be expecting me. If I give my parole and keep it, I probably end up at the Tower.

But then there's the honor thing. I've told my kids that sometimes all people have to judge you on is your honesty. OTOH, I haven't hesitated to lie about my origins and motivations since I got here. OTGH, I'm simply being asked to behave myself until I get killed or hauled away.

So I tried a fourth option.

I leaned forward to the bars and beckoned the Mother closer. She leaned in, but Bryant was smart enough to look alert. "Ma'am, I need to tell you about my dream last night."

She raised her eyebrows. "Another prophetic dream? That is convenient."

"Yeah, I know, but…it seems important. It was about the mage Tower."

Skepticism dripped from her voice. "Tell me."

"The dream I had…it seemed as if the Tower had come alive. It was corrupting the mages there; changing them, it seemed. And one of the mages; he was standing on top of the tower, watching it all happen. And…laughing." Figured I'd throw that last line in.

The Mother considered me for a minute. I was hoping I'd hit the fine line between details and vagueness. "This laughing mage," she asked, "what did he look like?"

Crap, what did that guy look like? And what was his name? "I…don't know. All I can tell you right now is that he was…laughing."

"I see. And why are you telling me this now?"

"Partly because I think you need to know what I saw-" And I did. Here's hoping the Tower situation can be averted. "-and partly because I don't want to go to the Tower."

She smiled at that. "Totally understand-"

"So I can't give you my parole." Time to toss the dice. Come on fate, work with me.

The smile froze. "I don't understand."

"If you let me out of here I will do everything I can to avoid going to the Tower. If I paroled myself I'd be lying to you, and I respect you, and Bryant, too much to do that."

"I see. Well, you are honest, I'll grant you that. Ser Bryant will be disappointed, however." She stepped back from the cage and sighed. "You will, however, go to the Tower. Ser Bryant…." She turned and left with a confused Bryant in her wake.

So, I'm an idiot. An honest one, but still an idiot.

**28 Justinian, early evening**

Read my journal _again_. Did some pushups and some situps. Checked the cot for nails; none to be found. (Good joinery, BTW.) Made a number conversion table. Figured out that my watch is significantly off from local time; no 24-hour day here. A Chantry brother I didn't know brought me dinner; he came in, dropped it off, and left quick. He looked scared. Things are starting to bubble over; I'm hearing more frightened and angry voices from outside.

**29 Justinian (day 11), sunrise**

In the Fade again. I gotta say it's getting old. I'm tempted to see what's on the outside of these ruins, but first I need to figure out how I pulled that sword the last time. I tried half-a-dozen different ideas, but didn't succeed until a booming female voice said, "Jeffrey!" That startled me; my hand came up, and I was holding a knife.

"Jeffrey!" A hand grabbed my shoulder; I spun around but there was nothing there.

"Jeffrey!" Wait a minute. The only person who calls me Jeffrey with a French accent is-

"Leliana?"

"You're awake!"

The Fade faded. I sat up in the dark, aware of a body right by me. "Leliana?"

"It's me."

I dropped my voice to a whisper. "What's going on?"

"The Maker, he came to me again. He showed me the approaching darkness, and showed me leaving the Chantry." She sniffed. "This has been my home. I found peace here in the cloister. But, the Maker says I must leave. I do not want to, but I will." 

I put a hand up to squeeze her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"How do you do it?"

"Uh, do what?"

"How were able to leave your home? How do you live with being so far from it?"

"I…don't know."

"Do not tease me." I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. I think not.

"I'm not. I guess I was…selected to come here, but it happened quickly. And I'm still not quite over the shock of it. And I miss my home. Badly. I'd…really rather be there, but I'm not, so I've got to make the best of things here."

Her hand patted mine. "Ah, the reluctant hero."

"I still think I'm just lost."

A giggle.

"Feeling better?"

"A little. But I will be ready when the time comes. And I'll be sure you are, too."

"Do I want to know what that means?"

"No." She hopped up and left the cell. She closed the door behind her and fiddled with it. I heard the lock slide back into place.

"Hey!"

"Don't worry. I'll be back for you. Be ready."

Hmm. "I will."

Looks like fate _is_ a weird thing, after all.

**29 Justinian, late morning**

Okay, things have passed tense and are getting crazy out there. I can hear people arguing, kids crying, soldiers and Templars ordering each other around. I'm getting a lot antsy about Leliana and whatever she's got planned.

Oh, and there's some guy out there preaching about darkness and the end of the world. (Hopefully he means just this little corner of it.) Normally I wouldn't mention that except he started yelling about a woman who has the darkness within her; that's she the first minion of the horde. Yep, the Warden's here.

_A/N: Those were quick, back of the envelope, pull the facts out of memory, and make a good guess calculations inspired by, yes, a discussion with my son. Although I was right about 144,000,000,000,000,000,000 joules being a fucking lot of them, I was wrong about how they compare to the Hiroshima bomb. The estimated yield on that was about 20 kilotons. That's not quite 10^14 joules, and is about the potential energy of 1 gram of matter. In 1961 the Soviets popped off the Tsar Bomba with a yield of 50 megatons; that's 2.1 x 10^17 joules; roughly 2,500 times the Hiroshima bomb's yield. My hypothetical energy release is almost 1,000 times the Tsar's Bomba's yield; that's well over two million times the Hiroshima bomb's. SE AZ wouldn't have a hole in it, there'd be a hole that used to contain SE AZ._

The more you know...


	14. 3xDPS LFG, Part I

**29 Justinian, sundown**

Busy day.

As soon as I realized the Warden and company were less than 50 yards away I had a shot of adrenaline hit me. And nothing to do with it. So I sat there and shook, then finally gave in and did some short sets of pushups to burn off the energy. Then I waited, shaking from the adrenaline. More pushups. More noise from outside. More shaking, more pushups. I swear if my watch had a second hand it would've been running backwards. Yeah, I don't wait patiently.

But I did wait impatiently.

But Leliana finally showed up sometime in the afternoon. "The other Champions are here! Thank the Maker!" she hissed. "A handsome, blond man, and two women, both mages I think! Although one seems to be from the Circle, and the other I think is apostate. But I don't know which woman is the Grey Warden! Oh, and they have a Mabari with them! It's quite dangerous looking, but I hear they're sweethearts. And they came here and spoke to the Mother and she gave them the key to Sten's cage. They're headed there now!" Etcetera.

Being told things I already know makes me crazier but there was no way I was getting Leliana to stop. I thought _Get on with it!_ more than a few times, as well as some much less nice things. It took more than a few minutes but she finally ran down.

I was kind of glazed over by then. "What's that?"

"I said it's time to go." And with that she reached up and started fiddling with the lock. She only needed a few seconds to have it open. I made sure I grabbed this book and started to walk out. I went back for the blankets. Leliana locked the door behind me. "Follow me!"

I wasn't about to ask questions. We slipped out of the building and immediately around behind it, past the outhouses, and stopped. Leliana pointed to a withered plant. "That bush there. It was dying, if not already dead. None of the Sisters or Brothers could remember when it had last bloomed. But when the Maker sent me his message, and I had reason to come around back here, I saw a new bud starting to form." She turned to face me. "And that is how I _knew_ my dream was from the Maker. He sent me a message; a sign. A message telling me to look for hope where it should not be expected. And then you came, and my faith was rewarded!" She turned back to the bush and her voice settled down. "But someone has come and plucked the rose. I would have liked it for myself, but I hope whoever took it sees the beauty of the Maker in it. Now quickly!"

She took off around the back corner of the Chantry. "Follow me!" The wall back there was about six feet high; Leliana hitched up her robes and sprinted towards it. Smart girl; she was wearing her leathers under the robe. She vaulted up and sat on top of the wall. "Do you need a hand up?"

I shook my head, tossed the blankets over, and vaulted up to join her. We dropped down the other side into an alley. There was a scary moment when I felt a twinge in my knee, but otherwise no problem. Except…. "What about my gear?" I asked, but thought I already knew the answer.

"I took care of that last night."

I knew it. Clever lass. "But where?"

"Right here."

But of course. A random locked crate in an alley. Good thing the Warden didn't get to it first.

Anyhoo, Leliana opened it and started extracting items. Two backpacks. Two bedrolls. Weapons: daggers, a bow, a sword, a crossbow(!), arrows. Chainmail? A small shield.

"What the hell?"

"I hope you don't mind but I sold your jug of acid. You said you were planning to sell it, so I did it for you. The rest of your things are here. I took them from the chest in the Mother's room; she's going to be very angry soon, if she's not already."

"I think I love you." Leliana turned bright red at that. "But the weapons? The mail?"

She actually gritted her teeth at that. "I, uhm, sort of…stole them from Ser Bryant."

"How do you "sort of" steal something?"

"He'd set these aside for you to use if you'd been released. You know he thinks you're crazy for turning him down?"

"_I_ think I'm crazy for turning him down."

"So do I. But enough of that, you need to dress."

So I geared up. Ugh. Chainmail is heavy, especially over a padded sweatshirt. But it's balanced and not too hard to move in. The weapons, OTOH, throw that balance off and make the mail dig into your waist and hips. This is gonna take some getting used to. I tied the bedroll and the shield to the backpack, and slung that on as well. I was not a happy camper; I hadn't carried that much weight since ruck marching on active duty. At least I don't have to deal with a helmet, although I do have a coif I can slap on if I really need the protection.

"Did you say all my stuff was in here?"

"Everything except for the metal rods. I rolled those up into your bedroll."

No wonder it'd felt heavy. I was going to need to sell some stuff soon. "Sounds good. So what's the plan?"

"We find the other Champions. They shouldn't be hard to find, not if they have Sten with them."

"And if someone asks who we are…?"

"I am a Chantry Sister delivering a message to Redcliffe, and you are a Templar Initiate assigned to guard me."

I rubbed my scraggly, itchy beard. "Aren't I a little old to be an Initiate?"

"One is never too old to serve the Maker."

I shrugged. "Let's go." Ding. "Wait." I dropped my pack, took my glasses off, and carefully stowed them. I reshouldered the pack. "Now let's go."

We zigzagged through Lothering trying to make our way to Sten's cage. We didn't make good progress; the streets were pretty busy, and I was still getting used to my load. But we must have beat the Warden because even from across the square I could see Sten standing there in his cage disapproving. (Yeah, that's gonna be a regular joke. Get used to it.)

I grabbed Leliana's arm. "Sten's still there."

"Are you sure?"

"Even without my glasses he's hard to miss."

"What about the Champions?"

I nearly answered in the negative, but caught myself. "I…uh, don't even know what they look like."

"One of the mages is wearing green robes; the other is somewhat…less covered. The man is blonde. And they have a Mabari with them!"

I looked across the crowd. "The dog's gonna be kinda hard to spot."

Leliana frowned at me. "We must have missed them."

IIRC Leliana met (meets?) the Warden in an inn. Let's give it a shot…. "Could they have stopped for supplies? Or to eat?"

"Possibly. Why do you ask?"

"I think we should backtrack. Stick our heads in some buildings; see if we spot them."

"Why not stay here? They'll be coming for Sten."

"I can't say for sure. Going back just…feels right."

She gave me an odd look. "Are you sure?"

"It feels right. But… but let's go no further than halfway back to the Chantry. You know; just in case…."

"And if we don't find them we come back here?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"I guess it does."

We turned around and headed back towards the Chantry. Leliana was moving faster than me; she ducked into a few buildings while I watched the streets, but came out of each one shaking her head. We reached our turnaround point, and turned around. We got maybe a third of the way back when Leliana grabbed my arm hard enough for me to feel through my armor.

"There!" and she pointed.

I had to take her word for it. I saw a grayish blur, a brown-black blur, a four-legged brown blur, and a green blur. I swore and dropped my pack and dug my glasses out. I got them on just in time to see the green blur turn into a brown-haired woman wearing green robes enter a building.

Leliana beamed at me. "The Maker is guiding you!"

The Maker or Bioware. "We should go in after them." I was perfectly fine waiting for them to finish their business, but if things were going to play out right I was figuring we needed to get in there.

"Yes, let's!" Leliana almost skipped towards the building. I shook my head and followed her. She took off her pack as she entered; I struggled to get out of mine and through the door.

And there they were. Alistair, Morrigan, a Mabari, and a green-robed woman mage. Being confronted by a half-dozen plus grumpy looking men. Leliana had walked up in her attempt to defuse the situation; I caught the tail end of what she said.

"…just looking for refuge."

"Stay out of this, Sister. These traitors are about to get what's coming to them, and you don't want to help 'em." That was the leader; a fellow wearing shiny armor. His men were subtly moving to flank the group.

"Please," the Warden said, "we're not looking for a fight. Let's just talk this out."

"I doubt you'll get them to listen to reason," Leliana said. "They're-"

"Enough of this!" the leader shouted. "Take'em, and the Sister, too, if she gets in the way!"

Everybody, except me, exploded into motion. The leader was already drawing a too-big-for-the-room sword and trying to bring it to bear, but Alistair stepped in and thumped the guy with his shield. The Mabari let out a chilling growl as it slipped past Alistair and went for one of the goons. Leliana turned and punched another goon in the nose. Morrigan and the Warden both did their arm-wavey thing; waves of force leaped out from them and staggered everybody away from them. The rest of the patrons scattered and ducked behind the nearest solid object they could find.

I just stood there and thought "Cool!" at the display of magic.

The five _experienced_ fighters held their own for a moment; but the bad guy leader yelled, "Take the mages!" as he locked his sword with Alistair's. I couldn't see the Mabari, but Morrigan and the Warden were being rushed from two sides. The Warden blasted out a cone of ice that sent two men to the floor, shivering violently. Morrigan did _something_ that made another man stop and hold his head in his hand. Leliana had a dagger out but was being pressed by a man wearing heavier armor, and two more men were flanking around her and headed for Morrigan.

I didn't even think about my sword or my shield. I came off my mark like a fullback (football, not soccer), aimed for the nearest bad guy, and dropped my shoulder. He didn't see me until too late. I caught him square in the upper arm and literally sent him flying backwards with his feet in the air. I didn't wait for him to hit the ground; I grabbed the second guy's shoulder as he went past. I couldn't hold the grip, but I threw him off balance long enough for Morrigan to hit him with an ice spell. I could feel the cold burning into him. The guy on the floor wasn't moving very well, but I kneeled down and punched his nose anyway. He grabbed his face and rolled over.

I jumped up, looking for another target, but the fight was over. Alistair had the leader pinned against the bar, sword to his neck; the man's hands were empty and in the air. The rest of the soldiers were in various states of pain. Leliana's opponent was down, bleeding. The dog was growling at a man standing on a table. The mages had taken care of the rest with ice.

And now I know I can brawl.

"Enough, enough, enough, we surrender!" the leader was shouting.

"Damn traitors!" another one said. Morrigan stepped over and kicked him.

"We're not traitors!" the Warden shouted at the man Morrigan had kicked. "Loghain's the one who betrayed the king!"

"I was there at Ostagar!" the leader snarled. "Teryn Loghain saved our lives; he led us out of the trap you set for us!"

Alistair leaned into him. "We set no trap!" He actually sounded angry; I didn't think Alistair could do that. "Loghain left the Grey Wardens and the King to die!"

"If the teryn hadn't retreurk!"

Alistair cut the man off by leaning back into him.

Morrigan walked up and eyed the man speculatively. "I say we let Alistair kill him."

"Please, everybody!" Leliana called. "He has surrendered, after all."

"Yes, listen to the sister!"

"The one you tried to kill a moment ago?" Morrigan asked.

"Er…."

"I thought as much." She turned away from the man.

"Neria?" Alistair asked.

The Warden jerked her head up. "Send a message to Loghain," she said. Her voice was quiet. "Tell him…. Tell him the Grey Wardens know what really happened at Ostagar. And that others will, too. Let him go, Alistair."

"Are you sure this is a wise course?" Morrigan asked. "They might decide to join with the others and try at us again." Her golden eyes took in Leliana, then stopped on me.

"Yes," Alistair said. "Let us kill everyone who so much as glances at us suspiciously, so that we may never worry about a stray dagger in our backs. Wonderful idea, that."

"It _would_ be a wonderful idea if any of these twits showed a sign of intelligence and came at us together." Her eyes stayed on me. Curious? Suspicious? I returned the stare; damn, she's smoking hot. "I would at least credit _you_ with that much-"

"Enough!" Neria snapped. "Alistair, let him go. You, collect your men, and go tell Loghain what I told you! Cullen, come here!" The Mabari trotted back over and bumped his head into the woman's waist like he was a big cat.

Alistair let up on the leader. He organized his men fairly well, considering, and they collected Morrigan's victims. At the time I thought they were unconscious, but looking back, I think Morrigan's targets were fatally injured if not killed outright. Remind me to stay on her good side. We all watched as they cleared the building.

Well, mostly. I took a moment to examine the Warden. 63 inches or so. The dark, reddish brown hair that seems to be standard issue for Ferelden tied back in three pigtails.. Pretty blue eyes. A plain, but friendly face, although she looked unhappy. A bit pudgy, but hungry looking at the same time, like a soldier a week or so into basic training. Which she kinda was. And, like a BT soldier, young; probably not more than 20. Definitely human, and definitely a mage. Except for the ice shooting out of her hands she probably would disappear if you put her in jeans and dropped her in a mall.

But after the bad guys cleared the building she spoke again. The voice was quiet, but firm. "Where did a Chantry Sister learn to fight like that? I thought you all spent your time chanting."

Leliana laughed at that. "Not all of us grew up chanting. Some of us have a more interesting past than it would seem."

"I guess we owe you some thanks, Sister," Alistair said. Then he nodded to me. "And you as well, ser." He was taking a good look at my armor.

I nodded back, but Leliana kept speaking.

"But please, allow me to introduce us. I am Leliana, a lay Sister of the Lothering chantry." She continued, but with a hint of sadness. "At least, I was, until today." Her voice changed to eager. "And this is Jeffrey. He is a traveler, far from home-"

"Please, call me Jeff." I didn't want her getting into the Champion thing.

"Leliana and Jeff?" Neria asked. "I'm Neria, and it's nice to meet you."

"I'm told you are Grey Wardens, are you not?" Leliana asked brightly. "And Grey Wardens fight the darkspawn. Well, you will need all the help you can get, and that is why Jeffrey and I will be joining you."

I tried successfully not to facepalm. I was hoping to be a little more subtle, but, wow, right to the point there Leliana.

Neria, Morrigan, and Alistair all exchanged glances, then Neria looked back to Leliana. "Yes, I'm a Grey Warden, and so is Alistair. And, well, we do need help," she said slowly, "but why are you so eager to join us?"

And Leliana dropped the bomb. "The Maker told me to join you. He would not have led me to this tavern had he not wanted me to."

Neria's eyebrows went up. Alistair sighed. Morrigan smirked. Cullen scratched himself. I'm pretty sure I rolled my eyes.

"I know it sounds crazy, but you must believe me. The Maker sent me a dream; a vision-"

"More crazy?" Alistair muttered. "I thought we were all full."

Leliana gave him a sharp look. "And after I had my vision I met Jeffrey. And he has visions as well."

I think I winced.

The motion caught Neria's attention. "And what about you?"

I jumped in before she could make the question longer. "I'm pretty much just along for the ride right now. But from where I stand you look like you could use the help." Well, for a little while at least. "Four against the whole world isn't very good odds."

"No, it isn't," Alistair said. He's as good looking as you'd expect him to be, and he's actually got a pretty friendly face when he's not waving a sword around. Even if he thinks the person he's talking to is nuts. "Neria, may I speak to you for a moment? Privately?"

He took a few steps backwards; Neria and Morrigan turned to follow. Cullen just sat there and panted at us until Leliana squeed at him.

"Ooh, a Mabari!" She knelt down. "And look at you! You're so handsome!"

I ignored Leliana and tried to listen in on the other three humans.

Neria. "...do need the help."

"You must have cracked your head harder than Mother realized."

"...and the Qunari…."

Alistair. "Can we trust any of them? This Jeff fellow is no Templar, despite the armor."

Morrigan. "So you can use your brain."

Neria. "Stop it now!"

Alistair. "…kill you in your sleep."

Neria. "Maybe they're crazy."

Alistair. "Crazy funny or crazy scary?"

Morrigan. "…a difference?"

I leaned forward. "Leliana," I whispered, "they think we're crazy."

"I know," she said. "Just keep smiling. You're such a sweetheart!" I'm assuming that was for the dog.

Neria turned around to look at Leliana and Cullen fussing over each other. "Maybe we should let him decide."

"He would probably make a wiser decision than Alistair."

"Now that's it! I'm-"

"Enough, both of you!" Neria leaned forward and shrugged emphatically. Some unheard words were exchanged. Morrigan shook her head; Alistair shrugged. Neria looked back at Cullen. "I guess that makes it two votes in favor."

"Wonderful," Morrigan said, "an insane Chantress and a counterfeit Templar. For once I agree with Alistair; we have enough crazy already." She shook her head and turned to leave.

Neria looked at Alistair. "Any objections?"

"Not as long as they're better company than Morrigan."

The tavern door slammed as the witch left. Neria looked at Leliana and smiled. Alistair gave me a suspicious look of his own.

And with that, we're in.

_A/N: Over 1600 hits! I'm flattered by everybody who's taken the time to stop and read this. Thank you, all, and I hope you're enjoying the story so far. _


	15. 3xDPS LFG, Part II

We were about 10 minutes getting out of the tavern; Neria needed to buy some supplies, and this place was one of the few still selling at a reasonable price. I ingratiated myself with her by paying for them. And Cullen seems to approve of me; he likes having his big, white, pointy teeth praised. (Couldn't hurt, right?) I left the keeper a few extra silver, apologized for the mess, and told him to get out of town ASAP.

Morrigan was standing outside the tavern, drawing the type of attention that only she can draw, and scaring it away with equal proficiency. "I was hoping you were joking when you said they could come with us."

"And I was hoping you'd taken off on your own when you'd walked out."

"And leave Neria alone to-"

"Damnit, would you two stop! Just for a little while!" Neria turned to Leliana. "I'm sorry, Sister, but these two…."

I was still struggling to get my pack to sit comfortably, so Alistair took a moment to help me adjust.

"Thanks. You need help?"

He shook his head and hoisted his own pack plus another. "I won't be carrying it much longer." Alistair fell in beside me as we wound our way back towards the square. "We've got another stop to make; we're picking up a.…" He was obviously trying to count party members. "Picking up another." Then he gave me a long look. "So," he said, drawing the word out, "at the risk of sounding suspicious I-"

"Oh, no, I totally understand."

"Well, I was, uhm, I couldn't help noticing your armor. Aren't you a little old to be a Templar?"

"One is never too old to serve the Maker," I answered solemnly. At his raised eyebrow I added, "Don't worry, I'm not buying it, either." I nodded towards Leliana. "I needed some gear, and the Sister hooked me up."

"And the Chantry just let you buy Templar equipment?"

"I don't think she stopped to ask."

Alistair gave Leliana an appraising look. "I see. Well. Anyway. I guess a formal introduction is in order. I am Alistair, and yes, I am a Grey Warden."

I stopped and turned to face him. "Alistair. Good to meet you." I extended a hand; Alistair reached out and gripped my forearm. Squee? Not really; I guess I got over that when I met Leliana. I gripped back. "I'm Jeff, and I'm…. I'm not really sure what I am."

"I…don't see."

I don't really either. "It's hard to explain, but let's just say Leliana thinks I'm a lot more important in the grand scheme of things than I do. If that makes any sense. But I'm making the best of things that I can." I nodded back towards the escaping women. "With some help from Leliana."

"She seems to be the helpful sort. But," he glanced away, "do you think she really believes this thing about the Maker?"

"I'm sure she does, and who am I to say otherwise? But I don't think she's crazy, if that's what you're getting at." I've got too much of my own crazy going on right now pass judgment on anybody.

"Well, if she is crazy, it's more 'Ooh, look at the pretty colors' rather than 'I am princess stabbity, kill, kill!' type crazy."

"I have to agree with you there. But what about me?"

He actually blushed a little. "Honestly? I thought you looked like the kind of person who kills people in their sleep."

Hmmph. Not the look I was going for. "And now?"

"Well, since the dog seems to like you, I think you wake them up first."

"You're a shrewd judge of character, Alistair. Remember that if I ever have to wake you up in the middle of the night."

He laughed at that. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure."

"What is that…frame on your face?"

Side note: Alistair's about my height; just an inch or so shorter, but has shoulders like mine. Hazel eyes. Standard issue red-brown hair. Very easy going, but almost too self-effacing. And, like every other fighting person I've seen since I've arrived, he's got a lot of hard muscle without being ripped. I just watched him strip off his armor and undershirt (under armor? lol) and, well, damn. Think Brad Pitt in _Troy _hot. And I'm saying this as a straight man. If my wife knew I was here she'd be super jealous that I'm hanging out with Alistair. Then again, she's been gaga over Kaidan since the ME3 demo came out, so her loss.

* * *

><p>Okay. Had to take a break there. I'm definitely not 100% yet with me being here, but my coping mechanism has been to push things aside and not cope. That means I don't think about what's lost and try to focus on what I have to deal with. It's not the healthiest way to go about it, but at least it's kept my head on mostly straight. And if I keep my head in the game here my life expectancy stays up.<p>

Alistair's cooking _does _suck, BTW.

We caught up with the women just after they'd unlocked Sten's cage. The big guy was actually on his hands and knees on the ground outside the cage; more than understandable, given how long he was supposed to have been in there. Neria was kneeling down beside him; Sten was rumbling something in Qunari, but I wasn't able to catch it. Cullen was sniffing cautiously at Sten; Morrigan was standing back and watching, but I couldn't tell what she might be thinking.

Leliana knelt down as Alistair and I got there. "Sten," she said, "it's Leliana; do you remember me?"

"Of course I remember you. It is my body that is struggling, not my mind."

Neria looked at Leliana with surprise. "You know him?"

"Not very well, but I knew he was imprisoned here. Jeffrey knows him as well; he had very…passionate opinions about how we were treating him."

Neria looked up at me. I shrugged. Alister dropped his extra load on the ground with a clank. "Sten," Neria said, "we've brought your gear with us." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Can you stand up?"

Sten flinched at the contact, but said, "[something] talib." But he pulled a leg forward, slowly, stiffly, and got a foot flat on the ground. He slowly shifted his weight then began pushing himself up. Neria offered a hand but he ignored it. With something between a grunt and a moan Sten levered himself to stand shakily. Yeah, he's a stubborn SOB, but he's tough, too. He looked around carefully then took a shaky step forward. Then another. Then another. And then he turned around and took a few, less shaky steps back towards Neria. "Warden," he said. "I pledge myself to you. I shall follow you into battle, and there I will find my atonement."

Neria stared back at Sten with an 'Oh crap, what did I get myself into?' expression on her face. "Uh, you're welcome?"

Sten nodded sharply and pointed at the bag Alistair had dropped. "If this is my equipment allow me to don it. I am eager to be elsewhere, but not until I am properly outfitted."

"It's everything the Revered Mother said was yours. There's no weapon in there, though."

Sten stiffened at that. Oh, yeah, his sword. He said something else but I missed it because Morrigan had something to say.

"As heartwarming as this is, I feel the need to point to the large amount of unnecessary attention we are attracting."

I took a moment to check our surroundings. Yep, we had a curious and probably bad-tempered crowd watching us take care of Sten. Thirty to forty people, probably, but they were keeping a fairly comfortable distance. I turned away from Sten and Neria, and stepped over to Morrigan.

"I don't think we're in any danger," I said quietly, "but let's keep an eye on them. Just in case."

"T'would be prudent," she agreed.

Alistair stepped up as well. "And what are we doing?" He had the presence to speak quietly as well.

Morrigan wasn't her usual acerbic self. "We are simply watching the crowd. Nothing more."

"Seems like a good idea."

"I am overjoyed at your approval."

"Glad to see something makes you happy."

I let the two of them bicker while I watched the crowd. No weapons in sight, but the overall mood seemed tense. Still, better tense than openly hostile. There was, however, one fellow moving around the crowd; I kept an eye on him.

After an uncomfortably long time Sten finally spoke. "I am ready, Warden. But I need a weapon."

Alistair said something about an extra sword, but the crowd got tenser when Sten said "Warden."

"They are Grey Wardens!" someone yelled.

"There's a fat bounty on their heads!"

"And they've released the giant!"

"Aye, but they look like they mean business." Not everybody in the crowd was stupid.

The agitator spoke up. "But think of the bounty on them. Think about the-"

"You first!" I yelled at him, and pointed at the man.

He looked around, confused, and started to say something, but I cut him off.

"Yeah, you! You want to collect the bounty, you come at us first."

"Er-"

"Oh, come on. I know you want the money; I've been watching you walk around trying to talk everybody else into helping you." I started slowly walking towards him. "What's your plan? Were you gonna get everybody else to rush us first and then come in at the end so you could say you did your part and pick up the reward?" I stopped walking just a few feet away from him. "Although, I gotta admit, that's a pretty good idea. I mean, look." I waved my hand at the Warden's group. "We've got an archer, two mages, three warriors, _and_ a war dog on our side. Y'all could probably work us over, but whoever gets to us first isn't likely to walk away. So yeah, you had a pretty good plan there, but now it's blown. But you know what? We're still willing to go along with it, but _you've_ got to come at us first." I bent my head from side to side; my popping neck added the perfect punctuation mark.

A few of his neighbors were muttering and giving him evil looks. The crowd had gone from just barely hostile back to tense. Time to wrap up.

I addressed the crowd as a whole. "The rest of you folks look like sensible people. And we are, too. But we need to be off, and we have go that way-" I gestured vaguely to my right "-so if you'd excuse us, we'd appreciate it if you could clear a path." The crowd in that direction meandered out the way as I waved my arms at them. "Thank you!" I looked at the group; they were looking back at me kind of wide-eyed. Except for Sten. But I still think he approved.

Ten minutes later the crowd was ten minutes behind us. We weren't moving very fast; Sten seemed to have loosened up, but was obviously still feeling the effects of his imprisonment. Still, he was pushing on without complaint. I was nervous. I kept expecting a Templar or two to show up in hot pursuit; fortunately the streets seemed to be clear of them. But Alistair suddenly decided he needed to investigate a shop, so the group took a break. I found a place to sit, dropped my pack, and took a few deep, shaky breaths. Neria came up to me.

"That was very well done back there, Jeffrey." She was barely smiling, but her eyes were grinning, if that makes any sense. And, yes, up close, she looked very young.

"I still can't believe I pulled it off. But you can call me Jeff."

"But Leliana calls you Jeffrey."

"She's the only one; not even my mom called me Jeffrey." The blue eyes started to look sad. Arg. Don't need to upset the Warden first thing. "But you can call me Jeffrey if you want to."

"Thank you, Jeffrey." She gave me a serious look. "May I ask you a question?"

"They're called glasses, or lenses, and they help me see better."

"Oh, no, not about that. Alistair said you're not a Templar, but you're wearing Templar Initiate armor. And you're much older than any Initiate I've ever seen. And you're running off with a Chantry Sister." The blue eyes suddenly sparkled. "Are you and Leliana forbidden lovers?"

"…"

"Are you!"

"…"

"You are! I _knew_ it!" Neria actually hopped up and down and clapped her hands together.

"No- Wait! No! You're not- Gah! Where did you get that idea?" The heat coming off my face could have melted chocolate. (Sweet deity of your choice, chocolate! Does it exist here?)

The spark in her eyes started dying. "Oh. I was hoping you were. It would have been just like _The Sister and the Swordsman_."

I didn't really want to know, but had to ask anyway. "_The Sister and the Swordsman_?"

"Yes! It's a book I read some time ago. It was _very_ interesting, if you know what I mean. So when I saw you and Leliana, I thought maybe the two of you…." She shrugged. "It would have been exciting." The spark was completely gone now. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you." She dropped her eyes from mine and looked at the ground.

Sigh. "No, it's all right. Hey, look at me." She did, but the sadness was back on her face. "Anytime you need to talk to me, you come talk to me. I don't care what it's about, or-"

"I have cheese!" Alistair shouted happily as he came out of the shop.

"He has cheese," I said.

Neria rolled her eyes. "He likes cheese."

I shrugged into my pack. But something tickled the back of my mind and I dropped it again.

"What's wrong?"

I started untying the shield. "I've got a feeling I'm going to need this soon." And that's all I had at the time; just a feeling. But I've learned to listen to those. "Anyway, do me a favor. When you get a chance ask Leliana the same thing you just asked me."

A smile flickered across Neria's face. "That might be fun."

I hoisted my pack, strapped on the buckler, and said, "I'm ready when you are."

Neria nodded at me, turned away, and called to the group. "Let's go! Morrigan, leave Alistair alone!"

And we were off again. But, oy, romance novels in the DA'verse? And the Warden likes them? Jeff disapproves -2.

* * *

><p><em>AN: the passage about picking up Sten was, for some reason, very hard for me to write. Why that was, I couldn't say. But I went through three painfully slow drafts before coming up with something I liked enough to publish. Hopefully you like it, too._

_I'm happier with my characterization of the Warden. I have a definite idea of where I want to take her. The question, of course, is whether or not I can pull it off._

_Anyway, thanks again to all the readers and reviewers out there. As a treat, sneak preview, semi-spoiler, or whatever you want to call it, here's some random lines I've drafted for inclusion in upcoming chapters. _

"Sorry, ladies, but I am. My friend, here, though, he's an ass man."

"First, I have an honest and healthy appreciation for the aesthetics of the female form."

All I could think of was how OOC this was for Leliana.

"Ah! Grub! Oh, but no grubs. Oh, well."

"But you might want to stand upwind of him for a while."

An immaculate chorus of angels sounded in my head as he handed me a bottle of Coke.


	16. First Contact

**30 Justinian (day 12), sunrise**

Ran out of usable light and consciousness last night. But I did remember what Alistair said so I woke him up for his guard duty very nicely. I got to sleep quick but woke up early. I'll come back to that.

Had some clouds come through overnight, but I still haven't been rained on since my arrival. That's gotta change soon.

Odd random thought: no digestion problems. Actually, I feel pretty damn good. Purely physical aches and pains are still there, but I haven't had a hint of sickness since I got here. I know my mind was hacked during transit/upon arrival; was my body? I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis, but don't really want to deal with the potential negative consequences.

We'll be breaking camp soon, but I'll get down what I can about yesterday and last night.

Last night: Yet another in the Fade dream. For a change I didn't feel like there was something following me through the ruins, so I was able to explore pretty freely. I finally made it to the edge of the ruins. I looked down and for some reason saw Neria there. She was standing on a cliff's edge looking down at something else, but from my angle I couldn't see it. But then I heard a roar and saw a cone of flame coming from below the cliff. Neria stumbled, then fell. I shouted her name; I don't know if she heard me or not.

But I woke up and looked around the camp. Alistair was kneeling next to Neria, speaking to her quietly. Best guess it was about Archdemon-themed nightmares. I needed more sleep, but didn't manage to get any, so I started writing as soon as there was usable light again.

Yesterday: We cleared Lothering without any more incidents, and were picking our way through some fields. We were heading pretty much west. I don't know the local geography but I was assuming we were heading for the Tevinter highway, and then headed to Redcliffe. Sure enough, the highway came into view to our left, so we angled that way.

We'd been strung out single file, but I picked up my pace slightly and caught up with Sten. The group was moving at his pace, which was pretty slow, even without him being burdened by a pack.

He turned to look at me. "Ah. Jeff. Shanidan. I must convey my gratitude to you. Had you not been so insistent I would not have been prepared for the Grey Wardens' arrival. Although, I must say, they are not I what I expected."

"Glad I could help. But how are you feeling?"

"I am stiff. And weak." He gestured at the long sword slung on his back. It's a tiny blade for him. "I am inadequately armed. Marasa. I am accompanying the Wardens." He glanced at me again. "I have a question for you-"

I'm going to have to print up some cards or get contacts or make a t-shirt or something. "They're called glasses, or lenses-"

"Not that. The Qunari have such devices. I was going to ask how you were able to intimidate the crowd around the cage. You displayed a remarkable understanding of human thought processes."

"Uh, thank you, I guess."

"You did not answer the question."

Continuing on from Sten's question: I had to think about that for a second. "You want the long answer or the-"

"The short one."

All righty then. "I saw him moving around talking to people in the crowd. And you heard what I said to him. Short enough?"

"You are more observant than you appear to be."

"Thank you?"

"Yes."

I didn't have anything to say to that, and Sten isn't much for small talk anyway. So I took a few good looks at the man. Big and tall. Again, easily over seven feet. His skin is kind of brownish-bronze, but I'm not sure if it's his natural, healthy color or not. His face is still sunken, though, so he's got some weight to put back on. Still, by the time we stopped for the night, he was moving smoothly and strongly. Again, the guy's tough.

But he's also impatient. "Vashidan. We are stopping again?"

Breaking camp. Gotta go.

**Late morning**

Another group of darkspawn. Archery (crossbowery?) is definitely my strong suit, but I need to get with Alistair for some sword training. Oops, spoilers. See below.

Y'day cont'd: "It's only the second time. But I don't think it's for cheese this time."

Alistair, who'd been leading the group, had turned around and waited for Neria. He was talking quietly to her and gesturing towards the raised highway. Neria was shaking her head. The group gathered around the two Wardens. Alistair started to speak but Sten cut him off.

"Why have we stopped?"

"I was about to say that I think there's darkspawn nearby." Interesting. Alistair's tone completely changes when he's down to business. "Not to many, I think, but enough that we need to be very careful."

Weapons came free. Packs were loosened. Even Sten drew his blade; it was comically small in his hand, but his expression was perfectly serious. Neria walked among us and touched each free weapon; the blades were instantly coated with frost. I took a close look at my blade; I could feel the cold radiating from it. The physics of it all caused my brain to vapor lock, but Morrigan snapped me back to what's probably reality.

"Why don't you try licking the frost off it?"

I lowered the blade. "You first."

Morrigan smirked at me and turned to follow the Wardens. They were moving towards a ramp leading down from the highway. And now I remembered why I wanted my shield. We took up a loose formation as we approached. My mouth tasted like adrenaline; dry and bitter. And I had to pee. Yeah, I was scared. I mean, it's one thing to tackle a guy in a pub. But it's something else altogether to deliberately advance on a group of special infected. And to try to take them down by hand.

But I'm writing this, so you know I survived. What you don't know is that it was quite literally by inches. Sten and I were right behind Alistair; Leliana and the mages were in a rank behind us. Cullen seemed to have his own sixth sense, or at least he picked up on the mood, because he was walking beside Alistair with his head down and ears forward.

And then Bodahn and Sandal ran down the ramp, calling for help.

"Vinik kathas! Go!"

"Darkspawn on the road!"

"There they are!"

Cullen took off. Alistair dropped his pack and followed. Sten started to run, I dropped my gear and followed him, but he only managed a few steps before stumbling and falling.

"Sten!" I croaked as I stopped to check him.

"I am fine! Go!"

Break's over.

**Early afternoon**

I looked at what seemed to be a horde of darkspawn coming down the ramp, tried to get some wet in my mouth, and charged after Alistair. I couldn't see Cullen; Alistair had made contact and was being swarmed. I picked a target and, even though I had my sword out, repeated the same move I'd used in the tavern. The darkspawn turned just as I got there; it snarled as I collided with it, but I managed to knock it back into another, smaller monster. I took a wild swing at it. I used the sword like it was a club, but managed to score a hit. At least I think I did; I felt the jolt and the darkspawn screamed. And then its head jerked at a weird angle; Alistair had cut its neck.

"Get the archers!" he yelled. In retrospect I'm both surprised and flattered at the confidence he had in me.

I took an instant to look around. There were two genlocks with bows that, now that the ranks were thinned, were taking an interest in Alistair and me. I gulped and charged the closer one. It fumbled an arrow onto the string but I collided with it before it could draw. I knocked it to the ground, stumbled over it, and came up facing the other archer. It had just fired its arrow; did you know they hiss when they go right by your ear? I swung at it in slow motion; it blocked with its bow. I chopped again and missed cleanly. I chopped a third time and hit its shoulder, but didn't do much damage. Cullen finished the job though; he shot past my legs and tackled the darkspawn low. I went back to what was working and used my weight and my shield to knock the genlock even further off balance. Cullen took the beast down and started savaging it. Then I finally remembered the first archer; I spun around, but apparently Cullen had worked it over also.

But that was it. Maybe forty-five seconds. A minute tops. I looked around and did a quick count. Fourteen bodies. All darkspawn. Some burned, some frozen, some hacked up, some mauled, some arrowshot. And they all stank. Bad. Worse than I could imagine; definitely worse than I can describe.

I just stood there with my body trying to decide if it should shake or not. And my stomach and I were having an interesting conversation about whether or not I should puke my guts out. My stomach's case was supported when Alistair clapped me on the shoulder, but my case recovered a bit when he spoke.

"First time fighting darkspawn?" At my nod he added, "Don't feel bad if you need to…you know." He made an enigmatic gesture that could only mean throw up. "I'm still not completely used to it and I've been doing it for months."

I was trying to breathe as shallowly as I could. I gulped, and answered, "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

He used his grip on my shoulder to start guiding me away from the mess. "Yes, I am. But you looked like you needed it." He stopped, reached down, and ripped a relatively clean piece of cloth off a corpse. "Clean your blade then grab your gear." He gave me another pat on the shoulder. "Good work."

I didn't answer, but did wipe off my sword and put it away. My hands were still shaking so badly I had to stand still to do it. I walked carefully back to my pack; I felt like my legs were going to give out. I know; all this is cliché, but sometimes things are cliché for a reason.

Leliana was waiting for me there. "You're hurt," she said simply.

"Huh?"

"Your ear; it's bleeding. No, don't touch it!" She grabbed my hand before I could investigate the damage. "Are you well?"

I gave the best answer I could. "I'm not sure." My voice was raw.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

I shook my head.

From somewhere she pulled a cloth and pressed it against the side of my head. OW! "Now hold that there until Neria can look at it." She gave me a sympathetic look. "You fought bravely, you know. I have heard of seasoned troops breaking and running at the sight of darkspawn." Then she smiled. "You fought bravely, but even you know you did not fight well."

I'd have preferred it if she hadn't told me about my ear; it was really throbbing. But it helped me win the argument with my stomach. As to how I fought…. "Yeah, I know. But…uhm," I nodded at a convenient bush, "I've really got to take a piss."

Laughter. "Go. I'll fetch Neria for you."

Lunch over.

**Late afternoon**

Stopping for the day at a farm. We get to sleep in the barn. Roof will be nice; looks, smells like rain, and my knees have been popping all afternoon. I have no idea how far we've come. But we haven't seen any darkspawn since this morning. Looks like the horde is concentrating on Lothering.

Y'day cont'd: Pissing takes a long time when you're juggling a shield, a pressure bandage, chainmail, and a fly, and doing your best not to pee all over yourself. When I finally came out Neria was standing a respectful distance away. "Leliana said you're- Oh, you are! Let me see!"

"You don't need to sound so excited about it." I eased the cloth away; it tugged on the dried blood and my ear started throbbing again. I winced.

"Oh, don't be a baby." She took a closer look at me. "Oh, this isn't that bad. It's just messy."

"That's what I thought."

Neria reached up with her hand. I watched out of the corner of my eye. There was a little ball of bluish-white in it. She pressed her hand against my ear; I felt the same cool, itchy warmth that I did from the healing poultice. "All better!" she said.

"Thanks." I looked around. It seemed like everyone was waiting on me. "Moving on?"

"Shortly." We started walking towards my pack. "Was that your first time fighting darkspawn?"

"You could tell, huh?"

"You looked pretty scared. Don't feel bad; the first time I saw them I forgot to cast any spells. Daveth had to…." She trailed off sadly.

"Daveth?" I remembered who he was, but wanted Neria to tell me.

"Another Warden at Ostagar. He didn't survive."

"I'm sorry." And I was, especially if that was him I heard screaming in that dream.

"It's all right." We stopped at my pack. "Get your stuff. There's somebody I want you to meet." Her voice started sounding cheerful again. "I'd never met a dwarf before. There were a few at Ostagar, but I didn't have a chance to meet any of them. And now look: two of them. Although," she whispered, "the younger one's a bit simple."

Bodahn and Sandal. They were watching Morrigan scorch darkspawn bodies, but turned to greet Neria.

"Lady Warden! Is this another of your friends?"

"Hello again, Bodahn. Yes, this is Jeffrey. But he likes to be called Jeff."

Bodahn gave me a friendly look with those pale blue eyes of his. "Jeff! Good to meet you! And thank you, as well. I was just telling the Lady here that we're much obliged to you for your help. Anyway, my name's Bodahn Feddic and this is my son, Sandal. Say 'Hello' to the man, Sandal.

"Hello."

"Good to meet you, Bodahn." I exchanged grips with the dwarf. "And you, too, Sandal." I extended my hand to him, but he just stared back at me for a moment.

Then he finally spoke. "You're lost."

Forget chills; a glacier ground its way up my spine. Somehow that scared me worse than the darkspawn. But I should have expected something like that from Sandal.

"Sandal! That wasn't very nice!"

"But he is lost."

I found my voice. "It's okay, Bodahn. Sandal's right. I'm a long way from home. Your boy's more right than he knows." I think. I hope. I don't know if Sandal not knowing is scarier than him knowing. Anyway….

"Well, ser, if you say so. But I am sorry if you took any offense."

"Don't worry about it, Bodahn. I can tell Sandal's a good kid."

"Why, thank you, ser! It'll be good to travel with you, at least for a little while."

I looked at Neria.

"I was telling Bodahn about the Blight-"

"Nasty business, that."

"-and the darkspawn horde. He's decided the safest thing for him to do is accompany us for a few days."

Smart man. Dwarf. Whatever. "Good idea. Welcome to the party, Bodahn. And you, too, Sandal."

"Will there be cake?"

I shrugged. "Maybe later."

"Oh, and Jeff," Neria said, "Bodahn has agreed to haul our gear for us. His cart's at the top of the ramp."

Very clever lass.

"All right, everybody!" Neria shouted. She gathered the party and we ventured forth.


	17. Inventory Management

**1 Solace (day 13), sunrise**

Trying to finish the entry from two days ago: Sten refused to ride in Bodahn's cart, so Neria did. She grinned the whole time. And talked Bodahn's ears off. The poor fellow looked dazed at the end of the day; I had to get clear just to maintain my sanity. The rest of us spread out along the road with Alistair on point. I put my sword out of my mind and decided to rely on the crossbow. I'm a lot better with it and therefore a lot less likely to terminally embarrass myself.

It turned out to be a good decision. We ran into a couple more groups of darkspawn, but these two groups were different. No archers or mages, just meleers. And they didn't have the tactics the first group did. When they saw us they just screamed and charged. One group came down the road at us; we picked them off with ranged weapons as they approached. Alistair didn't even need to swing his sword. The second group came at us from the south. But the road was elevated at that spot; we picked off most of the group as they ran up to the road. Alistair and Sten took care of the rest as they tried to climb up the roadbed. Sten is gonna need a bigger sword.

Another damn Fade dream: whatever's in the ruins hiding from me is back. But I managed to use that feeling of scared to draw a weapon. Another knife. Guess I'll keep practicing.

Got more to say but don't have the time. Will try to catch up to present day ASAP.

Real quick: rained last night, still sprinkling, but can see smoke from Lothering.

Leliana's pretty upset.

**Mid-morning**

We're making better time; Sten's had a chance to work out the muscle kinks and get more food in him. But we think he ate too much this morning; he's off the road taking care of some "digestive distress."

I tried speaking with Leliana.

"Not now, Jeffrey," was her answer. "I knew the Maker would cause this road to be difficult to travel, but my home…." She wasn't crying, but I'm pretty sure she wanted to.

We're catching up to and passing a few refugees from Lothering. More disturbingly, we're passing a few places where it appears someone, either darkspawn or bandits have preyed on the refugees. Alistair thinks it's probably bandits; he says darkspawn wouldn't leave as many corpses. It's disturbing either way.

Some of the refugees we're passing are actually trying to keep up with us. I guess I would, too, in their situation. As Bodahn pointed out we're "formidable folk."

**Noon**

After we started moving again I decided to confirm some suspicions. I caught up to Alistair, who was still on point.

"Do you mind if we talk for a few?"

"Not at all. That's what I'm here for." He's a cheerful fellow despite the situation we're in.

"I thought I heard you say something about intelligent darkspawn and how they behaved."

He gave me a look. "Did I?"

Did he? Until I decide just how much to reveal I'm going to need to be careful about what I know versus what I'm supposed to know.

"Well, somebody did. I thought it was you."

He got a confused look on his face. "Then I guess it probably was me. Uhm, you had a question?"

"The darkspawn we encountered on the road. They just…came at us. No tactics, no…anything. Like they were mindless. But the group in Lothering. You said there was a darkspawn mage-"

"An emissary."

"Right. And you said it and the archers hung back. Like they knew what they were doing?"

"And your point?"

"Smarter darkspawn behave…smarter. Does their smartness-" I winced at the word. "-spread to other darkspawn they're with? Or do they somehow control the less intelligent darkspawn? I'm favoring that, myself."

"How did you come up with that?"

"Just a guess based on what I've seen and heard."

He shook his head. "The Grey Wardens have been debating those ideas for decades; ages even. We just don't know. Well, except for the Archdemon, we don't know. But testing ideas like that, well, that's a bit hazardous to one's health."

"But the bottom line is that an intelligent darkspawn makes the whole group of them more dangerous?"

Alistair put on a sly grin. "Well, only to people who can't stab."

I felt myself flushing. "I should have a comeback for that, but I don't, so I'll pretend you didn't say it."

"We'll work on your swordplay tonight."

"That's what you've said the last two nights. I'm beginning to think you don't like me."

"Let's just say I feel safer with you behind me rather than beside me."

The tone was playful, but the sentiment wasn't. Ouch.

**Sundown**

At this rate I'm never going to catch up to today, but here goes:

Last night in the barn: I was coming back from the jakes when Morrigan unmelded from the shadows in front of me.

I jumped and gasped. "Damn it, Morrigan!"

"Did I frighten you?"

Normally that voice would have me drooling. Not now. "What do you think?"

A chuckle. "It appears I have."

Sigh. "What do you want?"

She took slow steps towards me while she answered. "What I want is to know the person I am travelling with. You are Jeff, are you not?"

"I-"

"Or is it Jeffrey?" She walked around behind me; I had the distinct impression I was being examined. As if I was dinner for a very large animal.

"It's-"

"Two names for one man. 'Tis a curious thing, is it not?" She stopped in front of me. "After all, a name means so much, but at the same time so little. And what does yours mean to you?"

I just stood in silence.

"Nothing to say?"

"I just figured you were going to interrupt me again."

"Oh, no, not this time. I do want to hear your answer." I couldn't tell if her voice was sarcastic or not, and it was too dark to see her face.

"Really?"

"Really. You at least appear to not only possess a mind, but also the ability to use it. 'Tis a rare gift."

"Should I be flattered?"

"Only if you will not let the flattery go to your head."

"I doubt that'll happen. I like flattery."

"And that explains why you sheathed your sword and took up your bow."

"I sheathed my sword because I suck with it."

"If that means what I think it means, I must agree, but that leads to another question. But," she continued before I could respond, "I'll ask that another time. For now, I would like to know who you are. Are you Jeff, or are you Jeffrey?"

"My name is Jeff. But I don't-"

"And that is-"

"Would you stop doing that!"

"If I must."

"Thank you." It was said with more exasperation than gratitude. "I was going to ask what difference my name makes. I can't answer a question without knowing the context."

"Oh, but you can. And you just did. Hmm. Perhaps you are not as gifted as I thought."

"Is there a point to all this?"

"Not at the moment. Sleep well." And she turned and walked away.

"Not likely," I muttered.

That was enigmatic, but I'm sure that's what Morrigan was going for.

So back to this afternoon:

We have a small group of refugees from Lothering sharing our campsite. Like I said before it's the smart thing for them to do. And bonus: they offered to cook for us. It's not anything fancy, but it's hot and filling and none of us had to do the work.

But the moment we were set up Alistair grabbed me and dragged- well, he didn't drag, I came along willingly, but really wasn't looking forward to having the snot pounded out of me. We found an adequate open spot and dropped our shields. Alistair asked to see my sword.

He hefted it, checked the balance and the edge, and nodded. "It's nothing fancy, but it's a good blade," he said. "Now, we're going to start with the basics." He held the weapon upright and pointed to it. "This is a sword. This," he indicated the hilt, "is where you hold it. And this," he pointed to the blade, "is the part you stab things with."

"You're a funny, funny man."

Alistair grinned. "Too bad my wit isn't sharp enough to take down darkspawn. Here." He tossed the sword at me; I caught it cleanly. "Now, come to this stance." He took up a ready position

I did my best to copy it, but without a shield it felt awkward. Still….

"Hmm," Alistair said. "Not bad, but move your leg back. Keep your shoulders square. Good." He moved next to me then retook the stance. "Now watch me." He went through a couple of very slow steps and cuts. "Your turn…."

I'm not going describe the entire session. I don't think I can, and I'm pretty sure the details would put you to sleep. However, the individual moves are very tai chi-ish, even if they're less graceful and more aggressive. Alistair's surprisingly patient even if he isn't the best instructor. We had to stop more than a few times for him to figure out exactly what he was trying to show me. I generally got the idea of what to do, but I've got a long way to go. Still, if I end up facing a real opponent, I should be able to last about 20 seconds instead of 10. In theory, my life expectancy has increased.

We did draw an audience. Neria and Cullen, along with some of the refugees. Sten showed up, too, although he kept his distance. I don't think he knows what to make of me. After the first fight he said he was glad to not be "travelling with a coward," but he is worried that he is "travelling with a fool." He pointed out that there's no dishonor in playing to one's strength and recommended I use the crossbow in place of a sword. He got no argument from me.

Time for go to bed.

**2 Solace (day 14), sunrise**

Alistair didn't work me over as badly I thought he would, but I did pick up a few bruises and one slightly more-than-minor cut. Neria took care of the cut right after the sparring was complete, but she checked up on me this morning, and she had a few questions for me.

"Like I said, they're called glasses-"

"No, not about that. I've read about those in the tower, but you are the first person I've ever seen with them. May I…?"

"Sure." I handed her my glasses.

She tried them on and looked around. "Strange. But they let you see perfectly?"

"Well, not perfectly, but pretty well."

She looked around for a moment, then handed them back. "What I wanted to ask was where you're from? Alistair says your accent is dwarven, but you'd be the tallest dwarf anybody'd ever seen."

Well, I've been waiting for this for a while. I'd been thinking about it for a while, too. "I'm from a place called Americo." At her confused look I continued. "It's so far away that not even the Qunari have heard of it."

"But…why are you here?"

I really wish I knew the real answer to that. "I came here for the same reason Sten did: to find out about the Blight. As for how: I travelled in a machine that served me well, but it doesn't work anymore. And now I don't know how to get home. I don't even know if I _can_ get home."

That seemed to upset Neria. "So you're stuck here?"

"I didn't expect it to happen, but yes."

"Do-. Do you have a family at your home?"

"Yes." She went right where I was hoping she wouldn't.

Neria waited for more, but I didn't say anything. So she finally asked, "Do you miss them?"

I tried not to snap at her, but failed. "That's a stupid quest-" I caught myself as Neria jumped. "I'm sorry," I said deliberately. "I should not have yelled at you. Nothing that happened was your fault."

We were both quiet for a moment then Neria spoke. "It's all right to miss your family; I miss mine." Her voice was soft.

Huh? "I didn't think Circle mages had family."

"Not the way you think. The mages in the Tower; we're one big family. And I was taken away from them; and very unfairly, too." She sounded angry at that. "But at least I can go back and see them. You…. I'm sorry." And suddenly she stepped forward and hugged me. Then she broke the hug and ran off.

Alistair stopped by a few minutes after that. "What did you say to Neria?" He was little aggressive, but I understood where he was coming from.

I stopped packing my gear. "We were talking about my family, and how I probably won't be able to get home to them anymore, and I guess that got her upset." I was a bit upset myself, and probably spoke more sharply than I should have.

Now Alistair just looked confused. He looked back to where Neria was packing her own gear with a solemn look on her face. "Oh. I, uh, see. I think. Well." Now Alistair sounded confused. "I just wanted make sure she was all right."

"I think she is."

"Well, uhm, sorry to have bothered you."

"Don't worry about it. You're looking out for your friend." I went back to packing. "Just keep doing that."

"I'll…do that."

**Mid morning**

We've stopped at a crossroads to eat, rest, and make a decision. The Tevinter highway has a side road going north to what I'm told is a bridge over a narrow portion of the river feeding Lake Calenhad. If we stay on the road heading west we'll be at Redcliff in a few days. If we turn north we'll be at village or town called Tenby in about a half day or so, but from there we could head north to the Circle Tower (or come back this way and continue to Redcliff).

Neither choice is a good one from my perspective. Zombies and a demon at Redcliff; demons at the Tower. But it's not like I have much say in the matter; Neria and Alistair have been discussing the merits of each since we've stopped and they're still nowhere near making a decision. Our train of followers is a bit more practical; most of them kept moving and turned north to the nearest source of safety.

I guess the best way for me to go is north. I don't have to go to the Tower. I can hang back but give Neria some warning about what's going to happen. If I can figure out how to do that without totally freaking her out. And then I can make the decision that I've been putting off: do I stick with the group, or do I make a break for it and find some safe corner of the world somewhere to hunker down?

Morrigan's saying something. "I'm sorry, I missed that."

"Had your nose not been in your book you would have heard me complain about our followers." She was glaring at the group of refugees. They were wisely keeping their distance. "I see now why I wished to stay in the Wilds."

"I didn't think that was an option."

"My mother sent me out for her own selfish reasons, not the least of which was to keep the child and the fool-" She pointed to Alistair and Neria. "-from ending up dead within an hour of starting their journey."

Neria looked over from where she was speaking with Alistair. "Morrigan…," she said in a warning tone.

Morrigan smiled at Neria. "You, in case you were wondering, are the child. 'Tis nothing to be ashamed of; children may be ignorant of the world, but at least they can be taught."

Neria opened her mouth, but Alistair spoke first. "Actually Morrigan, I'm glad you came along. It's very useful having someone around to scare small children."

"Alistair…."

"Oh, let him have his small victory. They are fleeting, and by this evening he will have likely forgotten it."

"If only-"

"No! Both of you stop it! Now!" Then Neria looked at me. "And you! I can't-"

"What did I do?"

"You got Morrigan started!"

"Oh, bullshit! Morrigan got started because she got bored sitting here listening to you two go round in circles and still not figure out where we're going!" I felt myself slipping into NCO mode. Plus I was still a little ticked from the conversation this morning. "So here's the deal: everybody pick up your shit, and start walking north! We're going to…whatever the hell this place is called, get a hot meal, buy Sten a new sword, sleep in a dry room, have a good breakfast, and then figure out where the hell we're going! Any objections? Good! Move!"

Hate to say it but yelling like that actually felt pretty good.

There was a quick scramble as everybody picked up their shit and started moving. Leliana walked past with her lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. (Good to see she's feeling better.)

Sten walked up and gave me a nod. "Well spoken," he said, and started walking north.

I just finished getting this down. And now I've got to catch up to everybody.

**Evening**

We reached the bridge a few hours ago. Very impressive; apparently the Tevinters combined Roman style engineering with magical construction techniques. This particular bridge was gated at both ends. We approached the south end with our group and were immediately challenged by the local guards. Neria announced our desire to enter the town; one of the knuckleheads on the gate refused to let us in on the grounds that we might be darkspawn. A clank reverberated from the man's helmet; his partner (justifiably, IMO) hit him upside the head and pointed out that we were quite obviously probably not darkspawn.

But we got into Tenby. Leliana immediately grabbed her pack and took off; she said she was going to find us lodging for the night.

I called out to her before she left. "Leliana!"

"Yes?"

I was about to tell her to keep a low profile, but then I remembered the group. Neria. Me. Cullen. Sten. _Morrigan._ Alistair's the most inconspicuous of the bunch. "If we don't see you before then, meet us back here at sundown?"

"That's a good idea. Goodbye." And she was off.

The rest of us retrieved our gear from Bodahn's cart and let the dwarves bade us farewell. We huddled up.

"We need supplies," Alistair said. "And for that we're going to need coin."

Morrigan started to say something but Neria elbowed her.

"And I need a new weapon," Sten added.

"So we're going to need more coin. How much do we have?"

I dug into my pockets and pulled out my local currency. Leliana had taken a bit to outfit the two of us, and springing for supplies in Lothering tapped me a bit too. But I had nearly as much as everybody else put together. "Take it," I said.

Alistair nodded his thanks and let Neria count the total out. "Two sovereigns, four crowns, and a bit more." She looked at Alistair. "Is that a lot?"

Alistair shrugged. "Not if Sten needs a new sword. Try not to be too picky."

"I will ensure any weapon I purchase meets my needs."

"Well, we also need to eat."

"We could eat much more cheaply if you would not purchoof!" Morrigan huffed and gave Neria a dirty look.

"I don't want to hear it, Alistair," Neria warned.

"Riiight. Well, we do have some spare equipment. A couple of swords and the like. Maybe we could trade for something more appropriate for Sten…."

When Alistair said spare equipment, I dinged. Bodahn hadn't gotten too far away. "I'll be right back," I told Neria and jogged after the dwarves. It took me a couple minutes to catch them; like Lothering, the streets were fairly busy. Although that makes sense, especially if people were running from Lothering. "Bodahn!"

"Ah! Master Jeff! You didn't forget something, did you?"

"Nothing that simple, I'm afraid. We have a problem: we're a little short on cash, I mean, coin, and-"

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, but I make it a point to never loan or borrow money. Not good for business or health, I'm afraid."

I hadn't considered that, but dismissed it anyway. "No, nothing like that. But I've got a couple of items that you might be interested in purchasing." At the time I didn't really know what I had, but now was the time to lighten the load.

"Well, we'll see about that, but I'm open-minded."

I got myself out of traffic and dropped my load. The car jack was somewhere near the bottom (it kept digging into my back), but there were other things that I could afford to get rid of. The first thing in that category were the two mirrors. I set the rearview mirror aside and showed Bodahn the visor mirror.

"I know it's small, but look at the quality."

The dwarf examined the mirror carefully. I hadn't had the chance to cut it out of the visor but I could tell he was impressed.

"Enchantment?"

"No, boy, just a mirror. But a very nice one, indeed. It is a bit small, though; what do you want for it?"

I had no idea. "I was hoping you'd make me a fair offer."

Bodahn thought for a moment. "Six crowns," he finally said.

Those are the large silver coins; ten to a gold sovereign. (It's a hundred silver pennies to a sovereign, or ten to a crown.) But the question here was how badly Bodahn was ripping me off. "Make it a gold and a crown."

Bodahn's face was unreadable. "Eight crowns," he countered.

I could probably get more but didn't see that it'd be worth the trouble. "Deal."

Bodahn dug into his purse and hauled out some coins. He counted eight crowns out and laid them on the seat. I counted to eight and scooped them up. "Now, next on the block we have…." I dug into the pack and found a folded piece of local paper. That was unexpected. I tucked into a pocket and started digging again. "A reversible screwdriver."

Bodahn examined it. "Clever, but I don't know what use it'd be. Maybe you should try a craftsman."

Oh well. "How about a jug of lubricating oil? Highly refined." I opened it and let Bodahn examine it. I ended up with two more crowns, but I think he might have been more interested in the bottle. I decided to hang on to the Velcro strapping, but dug down deep and pulled out the car jack.

Bodahn was genuinely interested. "Now what is that?"

I spun the screw back and forth a couple of times to show how the jack extended. "This is what's called a jack; it's used to lift heavy loads. I could lift your cart with it if I wanted."

Bodahn's eyes narrowed. "Show me."

We rigged up a block under the cart. I grabbed the handle and showed Bodahn how to use it. He got the hang of it immediately; the cart slowly rose off the ground.

"Enchantment?"

"No, just leverage," I said.

"No enchantment." Sandal sounded disappointed.

Bodahn eased the cart back down. He seemed to be at a loss. "I have to tell you I've never seen anything like this before. But," his eyes narrowed again, "why aren't you trying to get rich off it?"

Good question. But right now basic survival (and in this case that means money) is more important than more money in the future. Besides, I've got ideas that are just as valuable, and they're a lot more easily transported. "Well, things are a little hectic right now, as I'm sure you've noticed, and we need money. And I figured you'd already have the contacts necessary to recreate it. Plus it digs into my back when I'm carrying it."

Bodahn eyed me thoughtfully. "I can see you've got things figured out. But I don't know if I can give you what I think this is worth right now."

I thought about that. "What can you give me right now that won't break you?"

Bodahn said eighteen sovereigns. That was actually a little higher than I was expecting.

"Tell you what. You give me fifteen right now. And if you keep travelling with us you give us a discount on anything we buy from you. But if you sell this to someone else, I get half. But if you just pay folks to make these for you to sell I get fifteen sovereigns for every hundred you make."

I could see Bodahn running the numbers in his head. He'd probably need to get to Orzamar to find smiths able to recreate the jack, but if he did, he'd end up rich. He'd end up pretty well off even if he just sold the thing. "Would that fifteen be before or after expenses?"

Good question but an easy answer. "Before, of course. Just to keep things simple."

"Of course. You drive a good bargain, Master Jeff. Now to seal the deal…."

He offered me his hand, I shook on it, but took an extra step. I tore a page out of this journal, tore that in half, wrote down the details twice, and we both signed. We shook hands again, I reloaded my pack, and tucked fifteen gold coins into a pocket.

"If you don't end up on the road with us again look for us in Denerim. Good luck and safe travels, Bodahn."

"And the same to you!"

I jogged back over to where the group was waiting impatiently; I'd taken a lot longer than I'd planned. But all was forgiven when I dropped a handful of coins into Neria's hand. Even Morrigan looked impressed.

So as far as interesting things happening that's about it. We went on a very restrained shopping spree. Everybody picked up a few necessities; some food, clothing, and the like, but nobody got stupid except for me: I found a blank journal at a semi-reasonable price. No more fear of this one running out.

Sten did get a new sword; a very impressive zweihander.

Of course, Morrigan had something to say about that. "Compensating for something, are we?"

Sten just gave her a flat look and said, "No."

Now I'm curious, although I'd rather not be.

Anyway. Leliana fulfilled her promise of finding us lodging, and we did indeed enjoy a hot dinner. In fact, it was the best meal I've had since arriving. I've been sitting in the corner writing up the afternoon's events while enjoying a decent (if warm) beer. And that's been accompanied by Leliana's singing. I don't really care for the slow, breathy, quasi-Celtic stuff she's doing, but the girl's got a set of pipes.

And apparently there's a bath house available. I'm off to take advantage of that. It may not last long, but it'll be nice to be clean for a little while.

**Late evening**

"Parshara!" Sten snapped. "Tell me again why we must share our quarters with the beast."

Cullen is splayed out on his back snoring like a champion. I'm sitting under a candle looking through the journal and adding notes (embellishments?) as necessary. Alistair is just sitting and was, I think, snoozing until Sten's outburst.

"I think it has to do with us splitting by male and female," I said. "I think it's pretty obvious Cullen falls into our category."

"Rouse him. Or something. I cannot fall sleep with that noise."

I reached out towards the dog but Alistair spoke up.

"I wouldn't do that. I tried to stop him snoring once and he nearly took my hand off."

I leaned back. "Maybe if you threw some cheese at him."

"I'm not giving up my cheese. At least not to the dog."

"Will neither of you silence him?"

"You spent all that time in that cage," Alistair said, "and a snoring Mabari is keeping you awake?"

"Exhaustion makes it possible to sleep under extreme circumstances. I am not exhausted. Now silence the dog."

"I'm not touching him," Alistair said.

Sten looked at me.

I looked right back. "You said you didn't want to travel with a fool."

Sten disapproved of our common sense. "Basra kaberathi!" He got out of his bed and reached a hand out to Cullen. The snoring stopped and was replaced with a growl. Sten froze then slowly backed away. Cullen smacked his lips a couple of times, sighed, wiggled, and went back to snoring.

"Asit talib." Sten stood, snatched up a blanket and stepped around Cullen. "I will be in the main room." And he left.

Cullen smacked his lips again.

"Did he just laugh?" I asked.

"They're supposed to be smart."

"But how smart?

"I don't know. Maybe they can understand everything we say. Or maybe they just respond to the tone of our voices. I just don't know."

Cullen smacked his lips a third time.

"That's a little creepy, you know," I said after a moment.

"Yes, it was," Alistair added.

We sat quietly for a few while I jotted down the conversation, then Alistair spoke again. "Do you, uh, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Is it about my glasses?"

"No. Well, yes, but no; I'll ask you about that tomorrow. No, what I was going to ask is, you're kind of old, right?"

I gave him a look. "Did you want to try rephrasing that?"

"Oh, sorry, uhm…."

"I'm just kidding; don't worry about it. Yeah, I'm old, what of it?"

"Well, you have experience with women, right? Oh, Maker! Are you writing this down?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Let me finish this line."

* * *

><p><em>AN: For anyone interested in exactly how swordplay plays out I recommend you take a look at The Association for Renaissance Martial Arts website. It's an excellent resource with tons of info about fighting styles, weapon design, and other topics. They've also posted videos to YouTube; I also recommend checking those out. Enjoy! _

_Reviewer shout out! Thedas'Hero, Rivanna, DoorbellSpider, Aritha, , moosesaregreat, alyssacousland, ZodiarkSaviour, Kor-Mavwin, and deagh. I really appreciate the feedback and have incorporated some of your observations into the narrative. (But be aware that you might not see them for a while.)_


	18. PLDC Lite

**3 Solace (day 15), very early**

Back in the Fade, but I've finally found the way out of the ruins. This leads to both opportunities and dangers. The opportunity is to move on and maybe figure out some of what's going on. The danger is in the Fade itself. I decided to take the road out of the ruins and, well, _something_ came at me. Demon, spirit, something else; I don't know. What I do know is that this Alien-esque _thing _came at me, from out of nowhere it seemed. I just froze in terror as it rushed me. I yelled "Mommy!" and sat up in bed.

It was still dark but I heard Alistair roll over.

"Bad dream?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I'm all right." I climbed out of bed and pulled on some clothes. "Cullen, wake up!" I heard the dog scramble to his feet. I let us out of our room and went out to the jakes. This Fade thing is getting old. (Or have I said that already?)

It's still dark outside. Pleasantly cool. Perfectly still. No moon. Can't recognize any constellations. But there is a galactic band stretching across the sky. If I can get the song out of my head I'm going to meditate and then try to get some more sleep.

**Sunrise**

Meditating didn't work well, and I didn't get back to sleep. Again. Sten, the hypocrite, is sawing logs in the common room. I'm sitting outside trying to decide what to write, if anything.

"Oh, hello, Leliana."

**A few minutes later**

"Good morning, Jeffrey. How are you?"

"Woke up early. Bad dreams again. But I'm okay. How are you?"

"I'm feeling better. But knowing what happened to Lothering…."

I took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I am, too, but people managed to escape. There are some here in town. And they said Loghain's army delayed the darkspawn long enough for many to escape."

But not all, I thought. Maybe if I'd given more warnings…. Damn it Leliana; way to wreck my mood.

"Are you all right?"

"I wondering if there was something more I could have done."

"I don't think there was. You told me, and I told others about the darkspawn. They told still more. And you saw Lothering when we left. You saw how many people were on the road. And you saw how many we protected when we could."

"I know, but, I don't know. I mean, you said I'm supposed to be a hero. I don't want to be a hero; I just want to figure out what's going on and maybe live through all this." I shrugged. "Or at least not die too painfully. Or maybe I should just get the hell out of Ferelden before the Blight catches me."

"You won't do that," Leliana said. There was confidence in her voice.

"I'm not joking." My voice was confident, too.

"I know you're not. You're perfectly serious. But your heart won't let you run."

"Bullshit."

"Do not say bullshit. Instead, think about this: you had the chance to run away yesterday. Neria and Morrigan told me how you shared your coins. There was nothing stopping you from keeping it all and using the money to go as far as you could."

I did think about it for a minute. Why _did_ I head to Lothering instead of Denerim? Why did I look Leliana up? Why did I link up with Neria and company? Who invented liquid soap and why? Why the hell am I standing here instead of making tracks anywhere else?

Leliana continued. "You're a smart man, and I think you know you're only bullshitting yourself."

I gave up and sighed. "You know, if I didn't think you had a good point I'd be pretty pissed at you right now."

She laughed at that. "It might take some time, but you'll find your destiny. You might even find it suits you."

I snorted.

"But start small. Have modest goals." Her voice turned playful. "Start by finding a breakfast that suits you."

Yeah, I could eat. I mean, a man's gotta have goals, right?

**Noon**

"I don't ever want to hear you complain about the Mabari again," Alistair was saying. "I could hear you all the way in our room."

"I do not snore."

"Jeffrey!" Neria jumped up from the table. "I need to speak with you." Her tone was disturbingly perky for that early in the morning.

I would have rather listened to Sten and Alistair, but didn't have that option. "You slept well, I take it?"

"Oh, wonderfully! When we slept. Leliana and I stayed up a long time just talking." She frowned and leaned in to speak quietly. "Morrigan didn't have much to say, though, but for a change she was nice enough. Oh, and I told them about the book I read. You know the one. They both thought you were so funny."

That explained the burst of laughter I heard last night. But I had a real hard time picturing Morrigan laughing, especially during a slumber party.

Neria leaned in even closer and whispered. "Leliana thinks you should shave off your beard. She says you'd be handsome without it." Her eyes had that sparkle again.

I refused to blush but felt it happening anyway. But I wasn't going to bite on the Leliana thing. (Oy, that didn't come out right.) "You wanted to talk?"

"Oh, yes!" Neria leaned back, but appeared to settle down. "Well, first, thank you. For the coin."

"Glad I could help." I felt the flush fading.

"It was a huge help! We should have enough supplies to reach the Tow-" She stopped and her expression went serious. "I'm thinking we should go to the Circle Tower. Alistair wants to go to Redcliff, but I think Irving – he's the First Enchanter – will be able to give us good advice about what to do next. And he'll be able to pledge the mages to us."

"Is that your decision?"

"Well, I wanted to hear what you thought."

I was thinking zombies might be a worse choice than demons. And that maybe I could get some answers from the Circle mages. And that if Leliana's wrong about me I'll be a lot closer to safety than I would be in Redcliff. But Neria didn't want to hear that. So I told her what she wanted to hear. "I think the Tower is probably a better choice. You sound like you know Irving pretty well, and that you trust him." And decided a vague warning would be helpful. "But I have to tell you that something's giving me a bad feeling about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't say." I didn't know if I could or not. "But I've got the feeling that something isn't right at the Tower."

Now Neria looked concerned. "What isn't right?"

I decided to stay vague. I could always get more specific as we got closer. "I don't know. But if I start figuring things out I'll tell you."

"Are these those visions that Leliana told us about?"

"Sort of. Those and dreams. The dreams are…disconcerting."

"Don't worry about the bad dreams; I have them, too."

"I know." Oops.

That surprised Neria. "How do you know?"

"I've heard that Grey Wardens dream about darkspawn. And since we're in a Blight…." I left the implications hanging.

Her young face turned serious. "You're right. They're bad." She leaned in to whisper again. "I think Alistair has them worse. But he says he's used to them. I'm not sure he is. But I know I'm not used to them."

I frowned and nodded sympathetically. "I'm not used to mine either. I haven't slept well in days," I whispered back.

Neria started to answer but Alistair broke in. "Conspiring against me I see! Are the two of you hoping to escape from my iron grip? Or will you-"

"Alistair, we're going to the Tower," Neria said firmly.

He blinked in surprise. "Oh. Well. That was sudden. It seems my reign of terror is brought to a premature end."

"Hey," I said, "there's always tomorrow."

Alistair brightened. "Yes, there is, isn't there?"

**Early evening**

Long day on the road heading almost due west. Really NTR.

But when we stopped for the night Alistair came looking for me. We just spent about an hour training and sparring. Estimated life expectancy against a real opponent: 25 seconds.

**4 Solace (day 16), too damn early**

Fucking Fade dreams. I'm not even sure if I'm having normal dreams any more. The alien thing from last night is still there, and it's _waiting_ for me. That's the only way I can describe it. What it wants from me I have no idea, but given what I know about the Fade and demons, I don't think it's good. It can't seem to get into the ruins, but I can't get out of them without this thing coming after me.

No idea what time it is, but it's dark, the wind's picked up, and the air smells heavy. No stars; I think we're in for rain. We're sharing a couple of big canvas lean-tos, so at least we'll stay kinda dry, but I'm not looking forward to walking in it. But I'm wide awake. Think I'm gonna relieve whoever's on watch.

**Sunrise**

The toughest part of pulling guard duty is the last half-hour or so before you're relieved. But I paced around the campsite and replayed as much of _1984_ in my head as I could remember. It kept me awake and alert enough until the others finally woke up. I sat down and must have dozed off, because the next thing I remember is someone else handing me a mug of something that was almost but not quite entirely unlike tea. Still, it gave me a boost, so here's to the day, wet though it may be.

**Noon**

Turned to almost due north a little bit ago. We're paralleling Lake Calenhad now. We're not right up against the shore, but every so often I can get a view of the water, and I can't see the far shore. It's a pretty nice view; shame I can't just build a cabin here somewhere and retire. Then again, mosquitos have been a problem. That's something I didn't have to deal with in AZ. The rain hasn't been too bad, and the road is well-drained, so while things are slow, they aren't miserable.

Morrigan and Alistair are fighting again. Neria's got them walking as far apart as possible, but it's not doing much good. It really bothers her that the two can't get along. She likes Alistair well enough, and she seems to get along with Morrigan, too. Actually, I think she likes us all. Maybe that's because she's never had a chance to meet anyone like us. She can't have been out of the Tower for more than a month; probably less. She's still got that 'wow' attitude towards things that most people have burned out of them too early.

**Evening**

I didn't hear the conversation that led up to it, but suddenly I heard Alistair yell, "Don't ever say that again, you bitch!"

We were setting up camp for the evening. I was looking at the food we had and trying to figure out a menu before Alistair remembered he was supposed to be beating on me. Everybody else was doing their thing to prep for the evening. But at Alistair's shout everybody turned around.

Alistair was bright red and in the middle of taking a swing at Morrigan. She jumped back lightly, laughing; and Alistair missed.

"Come little puppy! Come to mother!"

"Both of you stop it!" Neria shouted.

It was too late. Alistair didn't hear her or didn't care what Neria said. That same shockwave Bryant had used on me erupted from his fist, but this one had an effect on Morrigan.

The wave actually caused her to stumble back. "You dare?"

She was only a few steps away, so I jumped over and grabbed Morrigan by the wrist. She snapped her head to me and her free hand immediately came up. There was a purplish ball of energy in it.

"Release me!" she hissed.

I hesitated for an instant, then twisted her arm and forced her to step back. But at the same time I got my foot behind hers; Morrigan plopped down onto her butt. The purple glow fizzled into a miniature fireworks display.

"I said release me!" Her free hand came up again with another ball of energy. This one was gray-green.

Oh, hell no. At least not until…. "Not until you're calm enough to…not…kill any of us with your mind!"

A hint of amusement creased her eyes; she may not have gotten the reference, but she certainly understood its spirit. The gray-green ball faded. I released Morrigan's wrist and looked over my shoulder. Sten was watching us carefully; his sword was in his hand. Leliana was talking sternly to Alistair, whose own sword was halfway out. Neria was bravely (or foolishly; your choice) standing directly in front of Sten. Cullen was directly beside Neria, but couldn't decide which way to look.

"I am calm."

Morrigan certainly sounded calm, so I reached a hand out and helped her up. But I didn't let go. "Why don't we take a little walk?"

"I am going nowhere with you," she snapped.

"I think you should. At least until everybody's had a chance to calm down. Besides," I added in attempt to shift gears (both hers and mine), "I was thinking about gathering some herbs and I'd like your help."

"Why would I wish to help you?"

"Because it's my turn to cook tonight and unless you're willing to go hungry you might want to make sure I don't accidently poison you."

"I have herbs with which I can provision you."

"I prefer fresh," I growled. I looked back over my shoulder. Neria looked very unhappy. "Trust me, you do too."

"Very well." But she jerked her hand free from mine. "We will 'look for herbs' if you insist. If only to give the others a chance to smooth themselves over in my absence."

We both marched stoically to the wood line.

"What is your problem with Alistair?"

"The man is a bumbling idiot. He is disgustingly sweet. He is irritatingly naïve. The only thing he can do properly is slay darkspawn."

"Well, I can't even do that."

"This is true. You are bumbling, but you are no idiot. Although sometimes you try. Still, you are able to learn. For example-" She pointed at a broad-leafed plant. "-that is a common salve. It has medicinal properties, but also a pleasant flavor and may be cooked with."

I plucked a leaf and crushed it. The odor was familiar; so was the taste. Can't place it, though. I grabbed a few leaves as Morrigan talked.

"You see. You are no idiot. You may, however, be a fool."

"Why's that?"

"How do you know this plant is not poisonous? That I merely told you it was safe?"

"The smell and taste are familiar, so I'm pretty sure it's safe. But if it does kill me I'm coming back as a ghost and haunting your ass."

Another twitch of amusement. "Then I shall try not to kill you."

We walked in silence for a minute then Morrigan spoke again. "Do you not want to know what I said to upset Alistair?"

"I'm not sure-. Hey!" Dandelions! Sure enough, there was a spread of yellow flowers and fuzzballs. I knelt and pulled a large leaf loose.

"Milk flowers?" At my raised eyebrow Morrigan nodded. "They are edible."

I tasted the leaf. Yep. I started collecting more leaves.

"You did not answer my question."

"I was gonna say I- No. If you want to tell me, then tell me. If not, then I don't care." I paused from gathering dandelion leaves. "What matters is that the two of you nearly started fighting – really fighting – and somebody was going to end up hurt. Like it or not, we're in this together. So either figure out a way to live with Alistair without making him want to kill you, or leave." I went back to gathering leaves.

"And who are you to tell me this?"

I had to think about the answer. "I don't know," is all I could come up with.

"Hmm. Then what say do you have over how I treat Alistair?"

"Directly? None. But I'll be talking to Neria about this."

"Do not think to usurp control over this group." Morrigan's voice was hard.

"I won't." But Neria's got to step up or things are going to fall apart.

"Then what do you want?"

"To get out of this alive. And you're making that harder than it needs to be."

"Do _not_ cast all the blame on me. Ali-

"He listens when Neria speaks to him. Do you?"

Silence.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." I gathered the greens. "I'm done here. Let's go."

Morrigan in three words: hot, hot, hot. Black hair, gold eyes, supermodel slim but muscled from running around her swamp. Small breasts and a tight little bum. That ragged top that somehow reveals both more and less than it should. Boots that get me right where I live. But right now I can't even stand to look at her.

It only took a couple minutes to get back to the camp, and we'd only been gone for a few, but the others appeared to have calmed down. But it was time to take one for the team.

"Alistair, get your gear on."

"I'm not really-"

I walked up to him and spoke quietly. "You need to give someone a beat down right now, and it might as well be me." I shrugged. "And we both know I need the practice."

He smiled weakly at that. "I don't suppose you could put on a Morrigan mask?"

"I need practice fighting, not dying."

"Ri-ight. Give me a moment."

While Alistair was prepping I found Leliana; she agreed to cook for me, and claimed to know how to cook 'lion's tooth' greens. (She does, BTW, although we both agreed it could have used garlic.) So I guess I'm up tomorrow. Anyway.

Alistair and I squared off. "Keep it away from the face, please." He grinned at me, and proceeded to work me over until Leliana called us to eat. Updated estimate of melee lifespan: 18 seconds.

"Feel better?" I asked.

"Yes. Yes, I do. Thank you. How about you?"

"Worse now. But thanks for the workout."

He shrugged immodestly. "It was nothing. But anytime you want to let me take out my frustrations with Morrigan on you, just say so." He shook his head in frustration. "She's such a bitch. I still can't believe what she said."

"What did she say?"

Alistair turned red.

"Look, man, I've heard it all before." I have; you'd be surprised what soldiers, even (especially?) old ones say to each other. Men and women both. I didn't think anything Morrigan might have said would surprise me.

"I'll tell you, but please promise not to write it in your journal."

"Promise."

He looked around then leaned in and whispered to me. Okay, it was crude, but it didn't even raise my eyebrows. But for a guy like Alistair it was probably way too over the top. "Yeah. That was pretty bad."

I guess I didn't put enough emphasis on that because Alistair stared at me kind of wide-eyed. "That doesn't bother you. You know, what she said?"

"I've heard worse." I frowned at some memories. "A lot worse. Stuff that got people arrested."

"Arrested? Maker!"

"Long story. I'll tell you sometime. But not now. Let's eat."

And the epilogue: after dinner and clean up I pulled Neria aside.

"You know Morrigan and Alistair aren't going to get along just because you want them to, right?"

We were far enough away from the fire that I couldn't see her expression. But her tone was clear enough: sadness and frustration. "I know but why can't they just not fight? Nobody fights like that in the Tower because if we did the Templars would step in."

"And that's what you need to do. For us. When any of us get out of line."

"You and Sten and Leliana never get out of line."

"Sten and I are soldiers. We know better. Leliana; well, she's just too nice-"

"I know, isn't she? And I love talking to her, she's got such a pretty accent."

I rubbed my eyes and the bridge of my nose. Wonderful. The Warden is ADD. "Neria."

"Ooh, right. But, how do I be a Templar? I'm not sure I want to be a Templar. I mean, you're my friends."

"But you're in charge, right?"

"Well, I suppose. Alistair doesn't want to be, and Morrigan is pretty much just following us."

"So that leaves you."

"Yeah, but-"

"The other morning, when you told Alistair we're going to the Tower, do you remember how you did that? How you just said that's where we're going? How you didn't leave him any chance to argue?"

"I remember."

"That's what you need to do."

"But-"

"Look. It's okay to be friends with us. But when it's time to get something done, or keep Alistair and Morrigan from killing each other, you can't be a friend. You have to be in charge; you have to take charge when necessary." Damn, it's just like giving the talk to a new LT. "Pull Sten aside; talk to him. He'll tell you the same thing I am."

"But what if you don't like the decisions I make?"

Sigh. "If I think you're going to get us killed, I'll say so. But otherwise I'll back you up. If I've got a problem with anything you want to do I'll tell you, but like this. Off to the side; not in front of everybody. But you need to step up and make sure we've all got your back, and that means making sure both Alistair and Morrigan understand that whatever problems they have with each other are-" I almost said 'subordinate to the mission.' Oy. "-set aside."

"Because if they can't get along we won't be able to work together?"

"That's exactly right."

"So what do I do?"

I saved versus facepalm. "Go talk to each one of them. Tell them how their fighting makes you feel, and tell them…. Tell them whatever you need to, but make sure they understand they can't do this ever again. Think you can do that?"

"I think so." She didn't sound very confident, but she sounded willing to try.

"Good girl. Go get'em."

"Jeffrey? Thank you. You're a nice man." And she walked away.

I found a quiet spot to record all the excitement and think. Yeah, Neria's in over her head, but the only thing we can do is back her up. She's a good kid, but she's gonna need all the help she can get. She's over talking with Sten right now. I'm hoping he's saying the same things to her that I did. I'm not going to try to listen; I've got a guard shift coming up later and need some sleep.

And I just looked at what I just wrote. 'We'. I guess I feel like part of the team now.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, but real life has intruded. OTOH, my kid is home from college for the summer, I've wrapped up a PITA project at work, I took care of a couple projects around the house, and this chapter's up! Thanks again to all the readers and reviewers out there._


	19. Second Contact

**5 Solace (day 17), sunrise**

Yay! No Fade dream last night. However, not enough sleep again. I think the trick might be to take the second guard shift and just wake up before the Fade kicks in. (I could set my watch on a countdown timer. It's worth thinking about.) Sten woke me up around midnight, I'm guessing (my time sense is all screwed up).

So I fumbled around in the dark, I threw on my gear, grabbed my weapons, and walked over to Sten. "Anything I need to worry about?"

It was too dark to see any details, but Sten's voice was its usual calm rumble. "No."

"Then you're relieved. Get some sleep."

"After we converse."

"Sure." Anything to eat up the time.

"Neria spoke with me regarding her leadership. It was a…difficult conversation. She asked me to be honest in my assessment of her abilities."

"And?"

"I told her."

"Diplomatically, I hope."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. She asked me to be honest. I told her that she seems to be an intelligent individual and a talented mage. I also told her that she lacks leadership ability, but that such ability may be learned. I recommended she consult me for such knowledge. However…." Sten was quiet for a moment.

"However?" I asked.

"You appear to have such knowledge as well. If I am to properly advise Neria in her role I would know if your knowledge of such matters is relevant."

"I think it is."

"It appears to be. But I would know in what capacity you served in your nation's forces."

"Uh…." I needed a moment to convert my answer into terms Sten would understand. "I used to train troops in my nation's army, and-"

"What size unit?"

"Anywhere from five to thirty soldiers, depending on the mission. Why?"

"So you claim to be a sten. And yet, you do not seem to be a karas."

"So wait. Sten? Is that your name or your title? Or is it something else?"

"It is what I am. But were you karas?"

"What's that?"

"A soldier who fights in the vanguard."

"If that means what I think it means, then no. My job was to…gather information about the enemy-"

"So you were a berasad, a scout?"

"No. After gathering the information we had to analyze it; we had to figure out what it meant. Then we put that information into a report for our leaders."

"So you did not fight."

"Oh, we could if we needed to. Every soldier in our army learns to fight."

"Askarasi [?]. You are a contradiction." He snorted. "Too many humans are contradictions. Pashara. I am going to rest."

"Sleep well, Sten."

No answer, but I wasn't expecting one.

Guard duty was quiet but spooky. No moon. Cool damp breeze off the lake. Nothing out of the ordinary until Alistair started making noise. Usually it's not that big a deal, but he was being noisier than usual, and probably noisier than was safe. Plus, if he's an early warning system for a darkspawn attack I should probably be talking to him. So…

"Hey, Alistair. Hey. You're all right."

Alistair moaned a couple more times, then, "Oh, Maker. That was a bad one." It was still far too dark to see him well, but I could tell he was looking over towards the women. "How's Neria?"

"Not a peep."

"Good to hear. Some of the nightmares she had after Ostagar…." He crawled out of his bedroll.

"Hey, um…." I was trying to remember if he'd mentioned being able to detect darkspawn. Well, if he didn't and called me out I'd say Neria told me. "I haven't heard anything but I was wondering if you could…feel anything."

Alistair stood up. "I don't think so. Everything seems pretty quiet."

"That's what I thought, but better safe."

"No, that's fine. Tell you what: let me relieve myself and I'll take the rest of the night."

"You

gotta go

**Evening**

Sorry about cutting out like that, but it had just become light enough to spot smoke rising from a distance to the northeast. Alistair still couldn't sense anything amiss, so whatever it was had to be a distance away.

"Darkspawn, do you think?" Leliana asked.

"Or bandits," Neria suggested. "Or farmers burning a field?" she added hopefully.

"I don't think so," Alistair said. "I think Leliana might be right."

"And our course of action?" asked Sten.

Alistair looked to Neria. The young mage looked nervously at the rest of us. "We should go see what's happened," she said. Her voice was quiet.

"Meravas." Sten turned to pack his gear.

"Let's get going," Alistair said.

I gave Neria a quick nod. She gave me a faint smile in return, and we both went to pack our gear.

Some time later (half hour plus) we were walking, as a group, up a cart path to a farm. There were eight small buildings that I could see, mostly dwellings, I think, and few larger storage buildings. One of the small buildings was burnt out; the fire from it had spread to a second building. There was nothing moving.

Alistair spoke up. "I don't sense any darkspawn. Neria?"

"Me either."

We dropped our packs and advanced. Morrigan found the first body; a man lying just off the path. There wasn't much left of him. We kept moving; aside from some birds we were the only things alive. Another body; this one half in a doorway. The remnants of a cow.

I tapped Alistair on the shoulder and pointed to one of the dwellings.

"Right."

We moved in carefully. He had his sword out; I was ready with my crossbow. (Only one shot, but better than nothing.) Almost nothing to see. The door had been broken open and there was some blood on the floor.

The third dwelling we checked was the bad one. The door was still intact, but a quick check found an open window. There was enough light to see several partial bodies. At least a couple were child-sized; the rest were adults. But their state….

"Sweet Andraste, comfort them," Leliana said quietly.

I'm glad my stomach was empty because I needed another look. I made it quick and confirmed a suspicion. "No women," I told the group.

"What?" Morrigan asked.

I needed a few deep breaths before I could answer. "The bodies. Looks like only men and children. There might be a darkspawn or two, but I didn't see any women."

"He appears to be correct." Sten was looking pale.

"What does that mean?" Neria asked.

"I've heard of this before," Alistair said, "but I don't know why it happens."

"Heard of what before?" Morrigan asked.

"Darkspawn carrying off women."

"For what purpose?"

"I said I don't know."

"The implications," I said, "are unpleasant."

Morrigan looked at me grimly. "They are quite unpleasant, but I don't think Alistair understands them."

"Vashidan!" Sten turned even paler.

We stood in silence for a moment. I, of course, knew what was going on. Morrigan and Sten had the basics. The other three stared at us blankly. But then Neria turned white.

"You don't think…they…kidnap women…to-"

"To breed! Yes!" Morrigan snapped.

"It is a logical conclusion," Sten added. "But, as Jeff said, unpleasant to contemplate."

Leliana paled and started speaking quietly to herself. I think she was praying, and I don't really blame her.

"Maker!" Alistair shook his head. "_This_ is what I was dreaming about. If only…."

"Alistair," Neria said, "you never told me about this."

"I didn't _know_ about this."

"Had you taken but a moment to thi-"

Neria whipped around, clearly angry. "Morrigan, no! Not now!" We were all a bit startled at her vehemence, even Morrigan, who actually took a step back. She turned back to Alistair. "Didn't Duncan tell you about this?"

"Duncan hadn't told me about a lot of things," Alistair said quietly. "Least of all something like this."

Leliana spoke. "Do you think we should try to help them?"

Alistair shook his head. "This happened hours ago. Middle of the night. They're long gone."

We all stood in silence for a moment. Then Neria grunted and flung a ball of heat into the building. An intense flame shot out the window then the inferno settled down. "Let's go."

So we grabbed our gear and moved out. We got back to the main road and started heading north. I'm guessing we'd gone a couple or three miles when Alistair called a halt. "Darkspawn ahead."

We went a little bit further and found bloody tracks crossing the road. Alistair pointed to the left. "That way. Not far."

"I can feel them," Neria added. Her voice was disturbingly calm. "Weapons, everyone." She did the trick with the ice blades again. When she got to me I just bared enough of my blade for her to buff it. The plan was to use it after I took my single crossbow shot.

"Jeff, come here."

I walked over to Alistair, but kept an eye on the treeline. "What's up?"

"Are you ready for this?"

"I better be." Alistair already had his shield ready, I only needed a minute to get mine set.

"Take your shot then stay close to my left. Remember: block, bash, stab."

"And repeat as necessary."

"And repeat as necessary. Hello!" Alistair shouted.

I jumped and elbowed Alistair. "Warn me next time!"

"Sorry. Would you prefer I send them an engraved invitation instead?"

"Wouldn't they just eat the messenger?"

"Yes, you're right. That does tend to be a problem. Hello!"

There was movement in the trees; perhaps forty or fifty yards away. I knelt and rested my shield on my knee, and rested my crossbow on that.

"Is that even steady?" Alistair asked. He was thumping his shield with the flat of his sword.

"Steady enough." I could hear Sten to my left; he was spinning his greatsword just fast enough to make it hum. "Careful with that."

"You are in no danger. The darkspawn, however…."

"There they are!"

"Maker, guide my hand."

"Remember, Jeff, you can do this."

Hurlocks and genlocks appeared in the treeline. I didn't see any archers or mages, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Leliana's bow twanged and an arrow hissed its way downrange. I was just ready to take my shot when my target exploded; Neria had thrown a fireball that scorched my ears.

"Maker, Neria!" Alistair shouted. I guess he felt it, too.

I picked a different target and squeezed the trigger. Boom. Headshot. Although I wasn't aiming for it; I guess I wasn't as steady as I thought. I threw the crossbow behind me, stood, and pulled out my sword.

_18 seconds_, I thought. _I have to kill my target in 18 seconds._ It's amazing what runs through your mind. Oh, and I had to take a piss.

"Brace!" Alistair snapped. "Now!"

We both took a fast step and a half forward; think lineman reacting to the snap. The darkspawn hit us just like that, but our shields and momentum brought them to a halt.

The reason armies train soldiers by making them do the same thing over and over again is so those actions will be automatic. If a troop has to stop and think about how to reload a rifle or take cover he or she's more likely to end up shot than actually doing something useful. The idea is to help the troop overcome fear by letting them fall back on their training and run on automatic. Alistair had only spent a few hours working with me, but it was quality time. We'd concentrated on the basics: how to block, how to bash, how to stab. And we kept doing it, over and over if necessary. I wasn't smooth, but I knew what to do.

We'd already blocked, so I bashed the monster right in front of me then stabbed it. It squealed and hissed. I readied my shield for a counterattack that didn't come, so I bashed and stabbed it again. It screeched this time and staggered backwards bleeding from the wounds. I lost track of it because another darkspawn came up behind it and chopped at me. I blocked and felt the blow all the way to my shoulder. I didn't get a chance to bash it; Sten's sword came around and broke its spine.

And it was over. Again, probably less than a minute. A couple of darkspawn were on the ground, too severely wounded to fight, but not enough to be dead. That was quickly rectified by Cullen and some fire from the mages. I started a quick count, but Alistair interrupted me with a gentle thump from his shield.

"Good work. Are you hurt?"

"I-" I turned around and puked. Well, tried to. I didn't have anything to throw up except a little water. Ugh. At least I did it after the fight. "I'm okay."

Somebody, probably Alistair, pushed a rag into my shield hand. "Clean your blade," Alistair said.

I took a look at my sword. Unlike the first fight, I'd apparently used it usefully this time. There was stuff (don't know how else to describe it) coating about two-thirds of the blade. It took a few minutes and some water, but I got it done. While I was scrubbing Alistair complained to Neria about the fireball; apparently she'd put so much into it that it scorched his hair. I took a look; the hair on the left side of his head was gone. Neria must have put her shot right by his ear.

"Hey, Alistair," I called, hoping I sounded jovial, "try to get her to even it out in the next fight."

He gave me a sour look. "Making witty remarks is my job."

"Well," said Morrigan, "we could shave the rest of his hair off and replace it with Mabari paint."

"Ooh, yeah," I said, "and get him one of those spiked-"

"Enough! Both of you!" Neria was bright red. "It's my fault. Stop picking on Alistair. Pick on me instead." She looked at Alistair. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Alistair mumbled something that sounded like, "It's all right," and went to look at the darkspawn bodies.

"Don't worry, Alistair," Leliana called. "I'll fix it when we stop for the night."

"Thank you, Leliana," he called back. "I'm glad to know one of you still appreciates my boyish good looks."

With Alistair's dignity dispatched we retrieved our gear and started north again. We saw more darkspawn sign while travelling but didn't see any more of them for a couple of hours. But then the trip turned into a wash, rinse, repeat type thing. We hit three more groups of darkspawn on the road, and a fourth while investigating another plume of smoke. We didn't have any trouble with three of the groups; Morrigan, Neria, and Leliana are a brutally efficient trio, and us guys (including Cullen) easily took down the remainder.

The only problem occurred with the second group on the road. We were just finishing up the standard 4d6 hurlock/genlock combo when an another handful of darkspawn appeared. Alistair suddenly swore and threw up his shield; a fireball exploded on it. The impact knocked Alistair down and staggered and scorched me, but one of our mages shot out a searing blast of cold that froze the immediate threat. Another overpowered fireball went downrange. I recovered, wound up, and swung hard at the nearest frozen darkspawn. Its outside layer broke into icy chunks. Gross and kind of cool at the same time. And then that fight was over, too, but I ended up getting some minor burns healed, and then took some ribbing from Alistair over my own burned-off hair.

Oh, and ding. Sometime during one of the fights I went from repeating the block, bash, stab mantra to simply doing it. I'm not anywhere near Alistair's class yet, but I'm not totally hopeless any longer. Updated melee lifespan: 40 seconds. Okay, 35.

But we finally reached our objective for the day: River Dane. Or more accurately, a town quite appropriately called Danesmouth. I'm not sure the folks here know that Alistair and Neria are Wardens, but I don't think they care, either. They'd been dealing with sporadic darkspawn attacks since the previous night, and were more than welcoming to a group of heavily armed strangers. They're not even worried about the mages. And bonus: we're getting put up in an inn, although we're sharing one large room. Still, it's dry and the beer is good. The food, not so much.

And that's how I ended up trying to teach Alistair how to shoot a crossbow.

"Maker! How do you do that?"

I'd just hit a genlock about 50 yards out. "Didn't I ask you that after that first fight today?" I replied while reloading. He'd killed three darkspawn in the time it took me to wound (or maybe kill) one.

We were behind some makeshift barricades at the edge of town. Fortunately for us the darkspawn were just trickling in. I don't know exactly what happened at Lothering, but I'm pretty sure the full horde didn't make it through. But enough of them did to be dangerous, and now, days later, we were catching the fallout.

"Well, this is different."

"How?"

"You're shooting like Leliana."

I'd finished reloading and looked for targets. There weren't any to be seen, so I released the bowstring. "I'm nowhere near her level."

"But at least you hit what you aim at. I'm lucky if my shots come back down."

"That's why I told you to squeeze the trigger. You're jerking yours like-"

"It's too hard to just squeeze," he protested.

"Alistair, my friend, thank you for the straight line."

"What? What does that mean?"

"Think about it."

Alistair suddenly blushed. "Oh, Jeff, really?"

"Yeah, I know; real mature. Come on, reload, and let's try again."

The group is taking turns on the barricades dealing with the occasional darkspawn, but they're basically running into ranged attacks. But it got worse when the sun went down. There's barely any light to see by and the occasional darkspawn just seem to leap at you out of the darkness. Alistair and Neria are a huge help, though; they can feel the creatures as they approach. It's gonna be a long night for the two of them, but at least they got a chance to rest this afternoon.

I scrounged a nap this evening, did another shift on the barricades, and have been in the common room sipping beer (sadly or fortunately, your choice, I'm getting used to the room temperature stuff) and writing by candlelight for a while now. It's actually been a little while since I've had anything to write, but Neria and Leliana just came in with Cullen on their heels. They both look tired, but when they saw me they started whispering, and now they're both giggling. Nice try, but I'm too tired and comfortable for them to get a rise out of me. But Leliana's coming over….

**Later**

"Leliana," I said and raised my cup to her.

"You look tired," Leliana said.

"I am. But you do, too. Look tired."

"I am. But I wanted to speak with you."

"That wouldn't have anything to do with what you and Neria were laughing about, would it?"

"Well, maybe a little." She leaned forward and examined my face. "We both think you'd look so much better without the beard. It's funny though: it's grey and white, but your hair is still nice and brown with just the right amount of silver."

"That comes from pure thoughts and a dirty mouth."

That brought a smile to her face. "I don't think your thoughts are that pure."

"Pure enough that my hair's not grey yet." A random thought struck me. "But you know what's really funny?" She started to answer but I kept going. "Ferelden is the first place I've been where plain brown hair stands out. But your hair; that'll stand out anywhere."

"Are you drunk?"

"No, just tired."

"You must be very tired, because you sound drunk."

"Do you disapprove?"

"Of you being tired? Of course not. But being drunk right now is probably not wise."

"Sound advice. I shall remember that."

"I think you should go to sleep."

"I think I should too."

Another smile. "But before you do, I wanted you to know that your writing has inspired me to set down our exploits in my own words, and I have been thinking about ways to describe you. Impudent is the word I shall use until a better one comes along. Now, put down your pen and go to sleep." She rose to leave but I asked her to wait. "Stubborn might be that word," but she didn't sound upset.

"Could you…do me a favor? It might, uhm, be difficult, but I think you can handle it."

"And now you are mysterious. What would you ask of me?"

"If something…unfortunate should happen to me, would you make a closeout entry for me?"

She stared at me blankly for a moment then broke into a soft smile. "I would be honored, but saddened, if the need arises. Will you do the same for me?"

"I'd be glad to, but I think you've got a better chance of getting through this than I do."

"You should not be so pessimistic. Now, put down your pen, and find a bed, and sleep. And do not let me come back to find you writing again!"

"Just a few more minutes, and I promise I'll go to sleep."

"Yes, stubborn. That is the word I shall use. Good night, Jeffrey."


	20. Distractions

**6 Solace (day 18), too damn early**

"I love your smile; you have beautiful teeth. No really, you do."

Cullen gave me a skeptical look.

"No, I'm not just saying that. They're big, white, shiny, pointy implements of destruction."

[Questioning whine.]

"You should be proud of them, you know."

He gave me a self-satisfied look.

"Can I see them?"

He gave me a Mabari grin. Lots of big, white, shiny, pointy implements of destruction in that mouth.

"That's very nice! I've got something for you, but you've got to promise to take it nicely, okay?"

Cullen gave me a quizzical look.

"It's something you've never had before, and you'll either love it or hate it. Which means you'll either love or hate me."

Cullen groaned.

"I know, just get on with it, right?"

[Impatient bark.]

I showed him the fajita chicken from my MRE. Cullen immediately started drooling. I broke off a piece of the chicken. "Now please, take it nice; I do like my fing- Can I have my hand back?"

Cullen opened his mouth.

"Thank you. Was it good? The chicken, not my hand."

[Affirmative bark.]

"I'll give you the rest, but do you want it one bite at a time or all at ah! Get off me!"

[Demanding bark.]

"Here, take it, take it!"

[Slobbering and chomping. Belch. Chop licking.]

"What are you doing to my dog?"

"Trying to make friends with him. Now can you get him off me?"

"It's all right; I won't let- Ah!" Neria got her face down to Cullen's; the Mabari panted fajita breath directly into her face. "What did you feed him?"

"Just some spicy chicken. It won't hurt him. But you might want to stand upwind of him for a while."

"Oh, it's bad enough at this end!"

Neria dragged Cullen off me and hauled him away. As she did she gave me a look that said _Don't ever do that again._ Cullen's look said _Better be more where that came from._

After that little misadventure I escorted – well, I tagged along while Cullen escorted Neria out to the barricades. I'm writing to stay awake. But I'm on duty, so I'll push through.

Neria had seemed relaxed on the way to the barricades, but now she's pretty tense. I've been walking her up and down the line; every so often she raises her head up and looks off into the darkness. When she does that everybody around us gets tense; she's blasted off a few of those overpowered fireballs. They go downrange like rockets and explode nicely on impact, but it's making everybody nervous because they can't see what she's shooting at even though we can hear the screams of dying darkspawn. Even Cullen's starting to flinch, but at least he still has all his hair. OTOH, we haven't had to deal with a darkspawn up close, and that's always a good thing. I said as much to one of the city militia; she agreed, then swore a few minutes later when Neria launched another fireball. Some humanoid shapes were outlined in the explosion; yeah, it's a bit freaky, but I'm not going to argue with results.

Neria doesn't want to talk about it. No problem, but I've started yelling "Fire in the hole!" when I see her start casting.

Sun's coming up so we're finally off duty again. Sitting here enjoying some breakfast, then gonna get some sleep.

**Late-morning**

Well, hell. I ended up in the Fade again. Same ruins, same thing outside them, same sense of frustration about not being able to do anything about it. I even walked over to the invisible boundary the thing can't seem to cross and looked at it. It came up to the boundary and looked at me. I had the distinct impression it was licking its chops, or at least figuring out the best way to lay an egg in me.

"You'll never get past it."

Old reflexes and too many horror movies combined to make me dive for cover. I landed behind a fallen stone pillar and wiggled myself low. I grabbed a handful of sand and threw it up and ahead, then poked my head over the pillar and aimed my crossbow at the speaker.

It was a good thing the speaker wasn't hostile because I'd be dead. I was totally wrapped up in a WTF moment over the crossbow appearing from out of nowhere. And it was even loaded. And I had reloads. And even though it was a dream crossbow, it felt real when I examined it. But so did I, and so did the pillar I was lying behind. Everything in these ruins felt real enough; I've had enough chances to examine them over the last few days. Oh, and Senor Xenomorph looked pretty real, too, but I wasn't going to go poke it to make sure.

But I wasn't too sure about the speaker. He was a young man in mage robes, but he didn't seem to be completely there. If you looked carefully you could see a bit of fuzziness around the edges. I was wondering if an arrow would have any effect on him, but given his passiveness so far I decided to wait before testing that idea.

He turned around to walk over to the thing. "Don't worry," he called back to me, "I won't hurt you."

He'd had his chance, and didn't, so why not believe him? I climbed up and walked over to where he was examining the thing, but he was also poking at the air (air?) where the boundary was. The thing was watching him impatiently.

"I wouldn't go out there."

"I don't plan on it. But this is fascinating." He poked at the air again. His hand seemed fade out as it crossed the boundary then faded back in as he pulled it back.

It was fascinating, but only because "It doesn't work that way for me." I moved a few feet away, kept a close eye on the thing, and pushed my hand and forearm through the barrier. I pulled it back quickly. An idea hit me: I pushed the crossbow through the barrier. It didn't derezz. But my clothes hadn't either, so that really didn't tell me anything.

"That's interesting," my guest (for lack of a better word) said. "Can I try it?"

I wanted to hang on to the crossbow. You know; just in case. "Try this."

I handed him an arrow. He seemed to have a hard time holding it, but he pushed it into the barrier. The arrow crossed the barrier without incident, at least until the thing swatted it away. Then it evaporated. My guest looked at me again. "Interesting."

I turned around and shot the loaded arrow into the ground some distance away, then walked over to retrieve it. "Still here," I said. I loaded it back into the bow and aimed at a random spot outside the barrier. The arrow disappeared as it crossed.

"Try sticking the bow through then loosing."

"Good idea." I made sure to get well away from the thing and tried the experiment. The arrow disappeared.

We, all three of us, looked at each other. The other guy looked thoughtful. The thing looked impatient. I'm assuming I looked confused. Other guy tossed a handful of sand at the thing; the sand went through the barrier and annoyed Thing.

"Got any string?" the guy asked.

I checked my pockets and found my Swiss army knife. That was unexpected, but no complaints. "Just a pocket knife. Why?"

"I was wondering what would happen if you tied a string to an arrow and shot that." He frowned in frustration. Before I could point out the cloth we had could be cut down the guy stuck his arm into the barrier all the way up to his shoulder, then shrugged and stuck his head through. He pulled back after a few seconds and said, "Interesting. I'll be right back." And he walked into the barrier and disappeared. Thing kept watching me.

"Dude, really?" but I decided to try his idea. I cut enough of my pants off to make a heavy string a few feet long and tied an arrow to it. My first thought was to toss the arrow through the barrier and attempt to retrieve it, but decided on a different test. I loaded the tied arrow awkwardly into the crossbow, tied the string around the foot ring, and walked up to Thing. I aimed the bow at it. "Smile you son of a bitch." And I shot.

The arrow struck Thing at point-blank range. It squealed and jumped backwards and actually ran down the road a little bit. The string broke or pulled off the arrow; I didn't see if any of it or the arrow derezzed, but Thing certainly acted hurt. I reloaded the crossbow, stepped through the barrier and aimed at Thing. It was moving back and forth, but not smoothly, and couldn't tell if it knew I was across the barrier.

"Hey, you!"

Thing stopped moved just long enough for me to take the shot. The arrow glanced off its back and sailed off somewhere. I jumped back across the barrier to reload; Thing couldn't decide what to do. I stepped back out and shot again and was rewarded with another squeal of pain. I stepped back into the barrier to reload, but Thing decided to GTFO. It tore down the road and disappeared.

I watched Thing run off then thought about what to do. Other guy wasn't back, but I didn't know if he'd make it or not. So I wrote a quick note in the sand: _gone that way – thanks_. I put an arrow on the ground pointing towards the road. Then I thought about it for a second and drew an arrow in the sand as well. I watched the arrow as I backed through the barrier. It disappeared, but the writing remained.

I had to decide if I wanted to travel or wait. Travelling meant unknown dangers and opportunities. Waiting meant just that until anything happened. I didn't think about it long, so I decided to travel. I hadn't gone far when I heard something behind me. I spun around and…Alistair? Although he was fuzzy and see through like a bad CGI ghost.

He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. Despite the fuzziness he felt pretty solid. "Jeff, wake up."

"Hmm?"

He shook me gently. "It's time to wake up."

The Fade landscape kind of disintegrated while the ubiquitous lighting faded into black. I opened my eyes and I'm assuming I was back in the real (-enough) world, because Alistair was leaning over me shaking my shoulder.

"Oh, hey, man." I'm still not sure if I got enough sleep. "Everything okay?"

"You…were…singing. In your sleep. Something about walking five hundred miles."

**Sunset**

We hit the road again early this afternoon. Apparently the darkspawn attacks stopped this morning, but there's no telling if there just aren't any more darkspawn on the way, or if something more sinister is going on. Probably both; we heard reports of sporadic attacks from the north of Danesmouth before we left, and ran into a few handfuls of darkspawn during the walk.

On the way out of Danesmouth, though, we had a very minor bump. A Chantry sister and a couple of Templars caught up to us on the way out of town. One of the Templars was very young; the other was a bit older and had a good limp. All three looked pretty jumpy. The sister introduced herself, but didn't bother introducing the Templars. What came next, though, was both amusing and unnerving.

"The Revered Mother of the Danesmouth Chantry has, uh, ordered the, uh, apostates, to be taken…uhm…into custody." Strong start but weak finish. Understandable given the stares we were giving her. "Uh…."

"This should be most amusing," Morrigan said. She was leaning on her staff and her tone was casual, but I had no doubt what she'd do if provoked.

Neria drew herself up. "I'm _not_ an apostate. I'm a Grey Warden, and…." She looked back to Alistair.

"The Chantry has no authority over Grey Warden mages," Alistair said. "Or over anyone in our employ." He said that part in a 'Too bad that's the case' tone of voice.

"Really?" Morrigan asked. "So when these silly little men attempt to take me into custody you will defend me and my honor?"

"I could be convinced to make an exception in your case."

"Alistair," Neria warned.

Alistair sighed. "But no, that would set a bad example, and I'm supposed to set a good example for all the good little children who want to grow up to be good little Wardens."

Morrigan smirked. "As always, your reasoning skills are impeccable."

"You know, I think I'll ignore the sarcasm and take that as a compliment. Thank you, Morrigan."

Morrigan opened her mouth but Neria jumped in. "Oh, enough you two! Come on, let's get moving." And she just started walking. Morrigan's smirk grew and she started walking with Neria.

I told you Neria is ADD. Well, either that or she has a set of brass balls. Sten, Leliana, and I all exchanged glances. I looked back to the Sister; she was completely confused by what had just happened. The older Templar actually looked relieved; he was holding back the young guy and whispering something to him.

"Perhaps taking our leave would be the most prudent thing to do right now," Leliana said. "Maker's blessings upon you, Sister, and upon your Templars as well." She gave the Sister a small bow and turned to follow Neria.

The Sister looked thoroughly baffled. "But…."

Sten bowed. "Good day, Sister." He turned to walk away.

Cullen bumped up against me. "No," I told him, "I don't have any more chicken." The dog gave a disappointed groan and walked away. I shrugged, gave the Sister an apologetic smile, and followed the dog.

Alistair fell in beside me. "What just happened?"

I looked back over my shoulder. Mayda was just staring at us. The older Templar caught my eye and gave me a nod. "I'm not sure. Let's just keep walking."

I probably wouldn't have even added the above except that about a mile down the road Neria suddenly stopped and turned to Alistair. "Does this mean we're fugitives from the Chantry now, too?"

**7 Solace (day 19), sunrise**

"Really? Come on!"

Back in the Fade in the same ruins I've been popping up in. Even after walking away from them for so long yesterday. I was sure because my message to the other guy was still there. And there was a reply: _wait here if you return - N_. I didn't see Thing anywhere, but I didn't have a weapon either, so I wasn't too confident about leaving. So I sat, and waited, and tried to meditate. But then I started to think about how I pulled out that crossbow yesterday. And my knife. I mean, I was wearing what I had gone to bed in, but I don't sleep with my knife in my pocket. But when I reached in my pocket I expected my knife to be there, and, without really thinking about it, it was. It makes sense in some weird way; I show up there clothed, so why wouldn't I have my usual pocket luggage? So after thinking about it for a while, I reached in my pocket and pulled out my knife. Well, not _my_ knife, but a perfect replica of a Swiss army knife. On a whim I checked my other pocket and pulled out my cell phone. It wouldn't turn on, but I doubt I'd have been able to get a signal anyway.

Okay. Now I needed to see if I could replicate that with the crossbow. I just sat and thought about the bow. How it feels, how heavy it is, how it smells, the sounds it makes. The shape of the stock, the spot on the trigger guard I need to file down. All of that. And somehow I found my center and could suddenly feel the weight of the bow in my hands. I opened my eyes too soon and watched a crossbow-shape coalescence of sparks evaporate into nothing.

"Oh, and you were so close!"

To my credit I didn't freak out. Instead I just looked up and saw the guy from the last time. "'N', I assume?"

He was looking around. "It's Niall, actually. Er, where's your friend?"

I couldn't place the guy's name at the time. "Thing?"

He nodded. "That's an appropriate name."

"I chased him off yesterday after you left. Your-"

"Wait, yesterday?"

"Yes."

Niall looked very concerned. "So you're not- No, uhm. Oh, Maker! How long- How long were you gone?"

"I'm not sure what you're asking."

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm in the Fade."

"Are you trapped in here?"

"No. At least, I don't think so."

"So when I came back and you were gone where were you?"

"I went down the road there and woke up after a while."

"And then?"

"I spent the day travelling and went back to sleep last night."

"So you've been gone for an entire day and night?"

"Pretty close to it."

"Oh, Maker! I knew it!"

"Dude. What's wrong? What's going on?"

Niall just dropped to his knees. "It's been at least a day, maybe two," he moaned to himself. "It's hopeless. I should have realized…."

"Realized what?"

"Oh, piss off!" Niall jumped to his feet. "I'm not going to sit here with some random stranger while my short, pathetic life drains away!"

He turned, most likely to head back to the barrier, but I moved faster. I tackled him before he could get more than a couple of steps; we both went down hard on to the sand. He was fighting me, but it really didn't take much effort to lock his arms and get him under control.

I'll finish this up later.

**Noon**

I pulled Neria aside right after we got going and she understandably freaked when I told her about Niall and the Tower. She's got us moving at a pretty good pace; not a forced march, but still quick enough to probably reach the Tower well before sundown. But we're still dealing with darkspawn; not the large groups like we had south of Danesmouth but the occasional much smaller group of stragglers, I'm guessing. And I'm guessing we do need to hurry; Niall's been trapped in the Fade for at least a day and a half. He won't last as long as Sten did.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks to all the readers, reviewers, and the folks who've added MoN to community, favorite, and alert lists. And a big shout-out to my non-North American readers! I don't know how you found the story, but welcome aboard, and I hope you're enjoying the ride!_

_Another special shout-out goes to my son, Eric, who helped me work out the properties of the Fade barrier and came up with the solution to dealing with Thing. He's a seasoned RPGer and a devious little bastard, and as his parent and occasional DM, I mean that with both the utmost respect and frustration._


	21. Guilt Trip, Part I

**10 Solace (day 22), pre-dawn**

Saying this is my fault is giving me too much credit, but completely ignoring my role lets me off the hook far too easily. The trouble is I don't know who I can vent to besides you, dear reader. (If you're even there.) We could have gotten here faster if I'd said more to Neria earlier, but I don't know if she'd have believed me without me name-dropping Niall or Uldred, but I didn't remember their names. We lost time in Danesmouth that could have been put to better use here. I could have kept the

Damn, this is gonna take a while to write. I'm glad we've all decided to stay at the Tower at least another day. We're all pretty banged up both physically (even w/magical healing) and mentally.

Let me start reconstructing things. (This is gonna take a lot of editing; I'm probably going to need to talk to the others so I can flesh out some details.)

We arrived at the Tower, tired, but not exhausted, on the afternoon of 7 Solace (day 19) with plenty of daylight to spare. Well, not the Tower, but the tiny village directly across from it. There's just a handful of small but well-built houses, a little pub, and, a nice little Chantry. But the most interesting feature, even more so than the Tower, is the causeway running from the shoreline out to the Tower. It's easily the width of a two-lane road and, except for where it was obviously destroyed, is still standing solidly. Which means there's a half-mile stretch of busted causeway in the middle of a three or four-mile stretch of cold, black water, which in turn means the only practical way to the Tower is by boat.

"The dock's down there," Neria said, pointing to a structure tucked next to the causeway. We could see three figures on it; from this distance they looked like Templars. There was also a middlin'-sized boat tied up; not huge, but it was large enough to have sails. We headed in that direction.

Alistair spoke up. "If things are as Jeff says they are, those Templars won't want to let us across."

"Let's try talking to them," Leliana suggested. "Perhaps they will to listen to a Grey Warden."

"It's been my experience that Templars don't listen to much besides the Chantry."

"I think that's Carroll," Neria said. "He's…a bit…imaginative for a Templar. We might able to reason with him."

"It's been my experience that Templars aren't open to reason."

"And it's been mine," Morrigan put in, "that they aren't very imaginative, either."

"Well," Neria said, "let's give him a chance."

"Perhaps a more direct approach should be considered."

"Sten, please don't tear off anybody's arms. At least not until I ask you to."

"I'm with Sten, but, who's gonna drive the boat?" At my question the entire group stumbled to a halt. "Well?"

"There are…oars," Neria finally said.

Good point. "I can row."

"As can I."

"And the boat seems large enough to hold us all," Leliana added.

"But if the Templars object to us taking the boat?"

"I'd rather not hurt anybody."

This was getting out of control. Like I'd said, though, we were tired and I, at least, was hungry, so I threw a suggestion out there. "Maybe we should get something to eat then try-"

"No!" snapped Neria. "We need to get to the Tower now! Come on!"

Agreed, it was a bad idea, but we got moving again. It was a short, quick walk to the little pier and up to the Templars, who were standing and waiting for us when we approached.

"Well, if it isn't mage…what are you calling yourself today?" Carroll asked as we walked up.

"It's Grey Warden Neria."

"Ooh, Grey Warden? Is that what you're calling yourself?"

"I am a Grey Warden."

"And I'm the Queen of Antiva."

Neria huffed. "Then, as Her Majesty is surely aware, the Grey Wardens have the right to petition the Circle of Magi for assistance during a Blight." The other Templars chuckled at that. "So we'll be taking-"

Carroll actually took a step to block her. "How do I even know you're a Grey Warden?"

Neria's voice took on a sharp edge. "You were there when Duncan took me away."

"But now you're back and," he looked at the motley crew behind Neria, "I don't see Duncan with you. I don't suppose you have any, you know, proof that you're a Grey Warden."

"Well, I suppose I could kill a darkspawn horde for you, except there aren't any darkspawn at hand!"

"Perhaps," Morrigan's voice rung out clearly if somewhat mockingly, "he would be convinced by the treaty we have with us." Good thinking on her part.

Alistair was carrying the scrolls. It took him a few minutes to dig open his pack and find the right parchment. "You see that?" he asked, pointed to something on the paper. "That's the Grey Wardens' seal."

"And that," Neria added, "is the Circle of Magi seal, and I'll bet _that_ is the Templars' seal. And that means-"

"Alright, alright," Carroll snapped. "Go ahead. Take the boat. Fall in and drown for all I care. No, wait!" He pointed at Neria. "What do I get out of this?"

"What do you mean what do you get out of this?" Alistair asked.

"Treaty or not, I'm likely to be in trouble for letting you bunch go over to the Tower. What can you give me to ease the sting?"

"We could not kill you," Sten rumbled.

"Uh, that's not-" Alistair and I started at the same time. We gave each other a stare. "Very helpful," I finished lamely.

"Coin?" Neria asked.

"Not much to spend it on out here," Carroll replied.

"We could leave Morrigan with them," Alistair suggested.

"That might actually be more interesting than visiting the Tower," Morrigan said. I shuddered at her tone of voice.

Carroll examined the witch for a moment. "Nnnno," he finally said. "She goes with you."

Sten snorted. "Here," he said. He held out a cloth that had been tied into a sack.

Carroll took the bag and opened it. "Cookies!"

Huh? I turned to stare at Sten along with everybody else.

"How did you get cookies?" Neria asked. "Where did you get them?"

"In the last village we passed through," Sten answered.

"I don't remember stopping for cookies," Alistair said. "I would have got some, too."

"We did not stop for cookies. I took them from a child."

"Sten!" Leliana's tone was scolding. "You took cookies from a child?"

"He was a fat child. A slovenly thing. He did not need them. And I have put them to better use."

Couldn't argue with that. But that made me want some cookies, too.

"Will that do?" Neria asked impatiently.

Carroll swallowed. "These will do nicely. Warden. Try not to fall in." He turned and walked down the pier.

I think that was last amusing thing that happened to us in the last three days.

The boat. Ugh, the boat. Large enough to hold all of us and our gear, but it seemed to be riding pretty low in the water. Or that could have just been me. I can swim just well enough to not drown, but not when weighed down by metal armor. And the padding under it. And clothes under that. At least Alistair and Sten seemed to have the same thoughts I did. The three of us exchanged glances then began stripping down. Even Leliana looked a little uncomfortable at the thought of a water crossing, but she left her leathers on and found a safe spot by the bow. I got my own gear off and stowed quickly enough, and took a seat next to the oarlock.

"Remember," I mumbled to myself as I wrestled the oar into place, "your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device."

"Cullen, come on!" Neria called.

The Mabari was still on the pier, shuffling back and forth, obviously not liking the concept of 'boat.' Smart dog. Smarter than us, anyway.

"Cullen, come on!"

"Your Mabari's called Cullen? Oh, that's rich!" One of the unnamed Templars turned and walked away laughing.

Neria turned red but kept trying to coax the dog on to the boat. She wasn't helped by Alistair or Sten climbing aboard. The boat sank a bit lower as they climbed aboard then rocked as they took their places.

"'Ere now! Whotcha doin' with my boat?" (And that's the only time I'll try to transcribe that accent.)

Apparently one of the Templars took some pity on us and found the boat's owner. He must have been in the little pub because when he got down to us we could smell the beer on him. But he knew better how to handle the thing than we did, and he recognized Neria.

"Hello, mistress mage! I remember you from, what was it, more than a moon ago now? I brought you across with that Grey Warden fellow. What was his name?"

Neria actually relaxed and smiled. "His name was Duncan."

"Was? Did he…?"

"He was killed as Ostagar," Alistair put in bitterly.

"Well. I'm sorry to hear that. He seemed like a good sort. But my boat, what are you doing? Do you need to go back to the Tower?"

"We do," Neria answered. "And we'll take ours-"

"No, that won't do! You'll just make a proper job of wrecking my boat and drowning yourselves. You!" He waved at Sten. "Out of my way! Go sit there!"

It took a few more minutes, but the man (can't remember his name, sorry) reorganized us and our load. The boat was still low in the water, but didn't feel as unstable as it had before. Only two problems remained….

1) "Where's Morrigan?"

Nowhere to be seen, but given what I know about her…. "She's probably found her own way across," I said.

"I was hoping sheeee, found her own way across." Alistair withered under Neria's stare.

2) "Cullen, please, come on!"

[panicked groan]

"Please, we can't leave you behind!"

"Neria, do not worry so about him," Leliana said. "From what I have seen of him he is very self-sufficient. If we leave him behind he will be fine. And you did say we needed to hurry to the Tower."

Neria sighed. "You're right. Let's go."

The boatman pushed off and Cullen let out a pathetic wail. The Mabari finally made up his mind and jumped for the boat, but missed. Pretty much everyone got wet, but the four of us (all the men) at the back got it worse after we managed to pull the dog aboard. You wouldn't think a short-haired dog could hold so much water, but you'd be wrong.

The boatman had Sten and I row easily away from the pier. Eventually the sail started to fill out and we were allowed to ship the oars. We eased out into the lake and quietly watched the Tower draw near.

At least until Leliana leaned into Neria and spoke quietly. At least she tried to; I was just too close to not hear her. "You shouldn't be so sad. This is your home we are coming to."

I couldn't hear Neria's answer.

"Nonsense! Your home is where your heart longs to be when you are not there."

Again, I couldn't hear Neria.

"Then we will bring you back to your family, and you will introduce us to them. And then we will drink wine and tell stories into the night."

"Only if-" I couldn't hear the rest. And it was driving me crazy, but I felt bad enough listening in.

"He may be wrong. But if he is not then we will lend whatever help we can."

"But you are a mage, no? Surely you know how to fight demons."

"Then they will fall beneath our blades like the darkspawn. Just be careful not to burn off Sten's hair. I think he would disapprove of that." She moved carefully to sit by Neria and gave her a gentle hug. The pair sat and talked quietly together (too quietly for me to hear what with Leliana facing away from me) for the rest of the trip.

I'm guessing the trip took the better part of an hour, but the boatman said he was travelling safely rather than quickly. We took the time to dig out some food and eat, but Neria's anxiety was keeping everyone from talking aside from her and Leliana. But we finally reached the Tower's pier, eased the boat into place, and disembarked, all more or less without incident.

Speaking of which, what is Leliana up to? Every time she talks to me it's either a 'dare to be badass' talk or she's flirting. Sometimes both. I think she's given both Alistair and Neria the same kind of pep talk. I almost get a cheerleader vibe off her, but she's more than just a cheerleader. More than just a badass cheerleader. Counselor, maybe? Although, sometimes it feels like she's more enthusiastic about the mission than either me or Neria. (Alistair's another story.) With that in mind I'll submit a couple of encounters with her for your approval. But not now. I'm going to try to stay in sequence.

But before that, I'm going to take a leak, find something to eat, and move to a quieter spot.


	22. Guilt Trip, Part II

**Sunrise**

An empty bladder. Bread, butter, apple juice. A quiet corner that I'll elaborate on later. All good stuff. Now back to the action…

Morrigan was, as predicted, waiting for us.

"So glad you could make it," Alistair said. He pinged my sarcasm meter.

I just caught her eye, shifted my gaze to the black feathers on her shoulder, then looked her in the eye again. I raised an eyebrow slightly and she narrowed her eyes in return. I gave her a smile and a nod to finish the conversation as I walked by. I'm sure Sten gave her a look as well, but I didn't see it.

And then I saw the Tower. Another 'wow!' moment. Remember: primitive doesn't mean unsophisticated, and the engineering involved here definitely wasn't. I'm not going to try to guess the hei Forget the height. The Tower itself oozes graceful impregnability. Hexagonal, though, rather than circular, but that's the outside. No windows big enough for a person until you're at least fifty feet up. The base is wide and appears designed to funnel attackers into a singular kill zone. It commands the causeway approach with the help of some attached spires that would need artillery to safely take down. Without the causeway I think any defenders could hold until food ran out. I'm glad this was a friendly- make that uncontested approach.

But aside from a few birds and some scattered plants there's no sign of life. There weren't even any Templars on guard. And least none that I could see at the time.

We geared up and approached the base of the Tower. We had to take a ramp up and around the base (and through another kill zone) to the back of the Tower. Neria led us back to the front of the Tower (into the original kill zone) and stopped in front of the first weak spot I'd seen: the heavy oaken doors that sealed the place up. They don't have any hardware on the outside, and light doesn't leak around the joints, either.

There was kind of a collective 'Now what?' then Alistair spoke. "Perhaps…we should knock?"

"Agreed." Sten drew his sword and thumped the door with the pommel.

We waited for a moment; there was no response. Sten tried again. Still no response. Sten knocked a third time, then a fourth. He was impatiently considering a fifth try when the left hand door shifted. Dim light appeared around the door's edge and we could hear excited voices. The stink of a combination locker room and porta-john hit us; there were also the subtle hints of wood smoke, cooking, and fear.

But the face who greeted us had to be Greagoir. He's an older man with dark brown hair shot with plenty of gray, but, unlike me, he has a beard to match. When he opened the door, though, he looked like he hadn't trimmed the beard in a week; actually he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. That didn't stop him from shifting his expression from relieved to confused when he saw us. And he was definitely not happy to see Neria. His expression changed to serious. "Mage Solona [?]," he said slowly and intensely, "your presence is not required." He looked off to the side. "Close the door."

For the first time since I met her Neria actually looked and acted the way you'd expect _The Warden_ to look and act. She drew herself up, stepped forward, and jammed the end of her staff against the door bottom. She responded to Greagoir with the same tone of voice he'd used. "It's Grey Warden Neria, and I'm here to invoke the terms of this treaty." She held up the same parchment she'd shown to Carroll.

"The Circle Tower is locked down. No one enters, no one leaves. Your treaty will _not_ be honored. Not today."

"This treaty grants the Grey Wardens the right to speak with the First Enchanter at any time for any reason. And during a Blight we have the right to conscript the Circle of Magi to our employ. Without the approval or the oversight of the Chantry." Greagoir actually sneered a little at that twist of the knife. "So you will grant us entry." All said coolly and strongly. I was wondering what Leliana had said to her on the trip over.

I was wondering about something else, too. During the exchange I managed to catch Alistair's attention. I mouthed 'Solona?' at him and gave him my best confused shrug. He gave me a confused shrug in return. I decided to let it go until later.

"No," Greagoir said. "The tower-"

Sten stepped forwarded and positioned himself directly behind Neria. The contrast between the two was remarkable. "The tower is locked down. You have said this already. But you have an agreement with the Grey Wardens. Do you choose to dishonor your word?" I noticed Sten was standing just inside the sweep of the door.

"Do you?" Neria asked.

From my angle I could see a Templar behind Greagoir easing a sword out of its scabbard, and Greagoir was clearly trying to decide whether or not starting a fight was worth the risk. He not only had the advantage of defense, but his side could nullify our mages. The unknown for us at this point was just how many Templars he had inside and whether he'd be willing to risk them. Thinking about it in retrospect and knowing what I know now, I'd say keeping the Tower in lockdown was the right choice for him at the time.

"Yes," Greagoir snapped, "if it means fulfilling my duty. You do not understand the risks involved here." Yep, he'd made up his mind. We were a lot closer to getting our asses handed to us than I realized.

Neria spoke again, but force was gone from her voice, replaced by resignation. "I think I do understand the risks. After all, you kept me here for fifteen years and told me about them every day. And what would happen to me if I-"

"Yes, well, it's happened! And-"

"I know."

Greagoir did a double-take at that.

"I said I know. What's happened here."

Greagoir found his voice again. "So then you know why I can't let you into the Tower."

"I think it's exactly why you should let us into the Tower."

Sten spoke again. "We are willing to enter the Tower where you are not. We are willing to…resolve this…problem."

Greagoir drew himself up at that. "We are perfectly willing to resolve this problem." His voice had a hard edge; I'm sure he understood exactly what Sten was implying. "But we won't do so without permission from the Grand Cleric in-"

"No!" Neria shouted.

"It's too late. I've already sent to Denerim for permission for the Right of Annulment."

"Greagoir, no! You can't-"

"I already have."

"Oh, Maker, Neria," Alistair said. "I'm sorry."

Sten looked confused. "What is the Right of Annulment?"

Neria, Alistair, and Greagoir all started talking at once, but Greagoir's voice won the battle. "The Tower will be purged."

Yeah. Nice, clean, clinical way to put it.

Neria repeated what she'd said. "They're going to kill everything in the Tower."

"Tethas vinek kathas boss serabes." Sten shook his head. "Warden, I see the necessity of what will be done here. But," he added as Neria whipped around with a shocked look on her face, "I have pledged my arm to you and will obey your will in this matter."

Greagoir jerked his head at someone I couldn't see then reached out and gave Neria a shove. She stumbled into Sten who course didn't move, but the heavy door started closing. Sten leaned into it but only slowed it. I jumped forwarded and managed to get myself between the two doors. I wheezed as I was pinched between the doors, but didn't move even when Greagoir got in my face.

"Remove yourself. Now."

I worked to take a deep breath. "You've got a problem you need us to solve," I gasped, then struggled to breathe in again. "You'll never get-" Breath. "Permission for the Right-" Breath. "We'll-" I gasped for air as the pressure was released.

"What do you mean?" Greagoir snarled.

I took a few more breaths. "Lock yourselves inside and you'll never know when your message arrives. Because we'll stop any messengers and anyone else who gets close to the island. And eventually we will find a way inside. You'll be trapped between us and the Tower, but we'll be able to figure out a way around you."

"Do you realize the danger-"

"I don't care!" Neria shouted over my shoulder. "That's my family you're talking about…purging!"

I was regretting calling Greagoir out the way I did. There were a couple of Templars directly behind him with swords drawn, and at least a dozen more that I could see from where I was trapped. If things did go hot I'd be the first one down, and it wouldn't take long. But Greagoir had gone from looking just angry to looking thoughtfully angry. I'd told him just enough to change his assessment of the situation. I had no idea if the group would take that course of action, but Greagoir had to assume they would.

"Sergeant!" Greagoir finally called while still looking at me.

"Sir!" I answered from reflex at the same time a Templar shouted, "Ser!"

Greagoir narrowed his eyes at me then looked over his shoulder. "Double the guards on the first doors until these are closed again!"

"Yes, ser!"

Greagoir shouted more orders. "Open these doors and get a detail to empty the pots! Make sure we've fresh water! Mage Solona: get your people in here. And you," he said to me, "I will speak with you later, Initiate."

I've got to get different armor, or least figure out some way to disguise what I'm wearing. "Whatever, ser."

Greagoir spun away from the door and walked off. The Templar sergeant Greagoir had yelled at sprung into action to take care of the 101 little things that needed to be done. The door I was trapped behind swung open to reveal some more disappointed Templars. I counted about twenty total; the number seemed low considering their mission. The immediate area just inside the doors was a barracks/mess hall that looked and smelled as if it had been occupied for far longer than intended.

"Neria-," I started to ask as I turned around. I cut my question off; she was speaking quietly and furiously to Sten. I didn't catch it all, but the short version is she told Sten to hit the road if he wasn't up to helping her.

Sten listened impassively. "I have pledged my arm to you," he said when Neria finished. "I _will_ obey your orders in this matter." He inclined his head to her. "Meravas."

"You'd better." Neria left the threat hanging and walked away.

Sten looked at me. "Our leader is leading. Finally."

"Seems that way. Hope she can keep it up." I looked over to where she was talking with Morrigan. "You didn't happen to hear what Leliana told her, did you? On the boat, I mean."

"Only scattered words. No details."

"Same here." I sighed. "I'm hoping things aren't going to be as bad inside as I'm afraid they are."

"When mages are involved things can be very bad indeed."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

About twenty minutes later things had sorted themselves out enough that Greagoir decided to close the outer doors again. We assembled in front of the heavy interior doors; the ones used to seal off the mage quarters. There weren't any words exchanged among us, but everybody was carrying all their gear; I guess nobody in the group really trusted the Templars. That didn't go unnoticed by Greagoir, but he didn't say anything about it, either.

He did have a few things to say to us, though. "If you go through these doors understand that I will not allow them to be opened again. Not until I receive word that I may enact the Right of Annulment. Which I will do unless you find the First Enchanter. If I open the doors again and his is not the first face I see…." He stared at us grimly. "Well, Maker help you, because I won't."

I couldn't remember if Irving's survival was optional or not. But I didn't care at that point. I was getting ready to do one of the stupidest things I've done in my life. But at the time I was thinking Neria was counting on me to be there for her along with everybody else. I at least owed her that much. I'm sure you've heard of that thing about death before dishonor? It doesn't mean it's the smart thing to do, even if it is the right thing.

"Open the door."

We turned around as a group. That put Alistair and me at the front; he's confident enough in me to let me alt-tank for him. We'd swapped out our beat up shields for a couple of larger Templar-style shields to hide behind, but those came at the cost of carrying a lot of extra weight. Still, I was, and am, glad of the extra protection.

The Templars on guard pulled bars off the door and pulled back a heavy latch.

"Shields up," Alistair said.

"Aye, Captain," I said under my breath.

The door was pulled open. Everybody tensed and relaxed. The first thing that caught everybody's eye was a boy, ten or twelve years old. He was standing near but studiously avoiding looking at the body of a mage lying next to the body of a Templar. His eyes opened wide at the sight of us, then he did the sensible thing. He turned around and ran deeper into the Tower. He only needed a few seconds to round a corner and disappear.

"I think that was Hubert!" Neria pushed through our ranks and ran into the Tower after the boy.

Alistair grabbed for her and missed. "Neria!"

"Shit!"

"Hubert?" She disappeared around the same corner, Cullen right on her heels.

"Go now or I close the doors!"

"Come on!" I shouted. I pushed Alistair ahead of me and stepped across the threshold myself. I looked back at the rest of the group. Morrigan was the only one who hesitated. "Morrigan, now or never."

She shot me a look of pure venom. "I do this only for Neria's sake." She stepped gracefully forward and across the threshold.

She hadn't even cleared it before the Templars started closing the door behind her. I was expecting the clichéd _boom_ of finality. It was more of a thump followed by some muffled banging as we were locked in.


	23. Guilt Trip, Part III

"As I recall from my time as a Templar, locking the door and throwing away the key was 'Plan B'." There was a grim undercurrent to Alistair's normal sarcasm.

"Well, let's get moving before they start with 'Plan A'." Of course, I knew Wynne and company should be right around the corner, but added, "I don't hear any screaming or explosions, so I'm assuming she's okay."

"We should probably go see what's happened to her."

"Yeah, but damn it." I pointed at an open door immediately to the right. "We've got to sweep these rooms. For survivors and…other things. I don't want anything sneaking up on us."

"A sensible precaution."

Alistair looked down the curving hallway. "But Neria…."

"I am sure she is all right, Alistair, but Jeffrey is right. We need to look for others."

I could see another body beyond the doorway. I didn't want to do it but…. "Leliana, Morrigan. You're with me."

Morrigan objected. "So you are giving orders now?"

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "I guess I am. Until we find Neria. Come on." I went into the room.

I wish I hadn't. The body I'd spotted was of a young girl in her teens. From the cut across her back I'm assuming she'd been killed by a sword. There was as much blood as you'd expect. I grabbed a blanket from a nearby bed and threw it over her.

"Locked in with abominations, not to be released even if the Templars come in to kill everyone? That is too cruel; I wouldn't subject an animal to such a fate."

Morrigan snorted. "'Tis a fitting end for those who gave up their own freedom."

"I do not think they had much choice in the matter."

I had to cut that off. "Leliana, grab a couple more blankets for those two in the hallway. Morrigan, this way."

The near side of the room was set up like a barracks; bunks and chairs and footlockers in a couple of rows, but there were only two bodies. The second one was older, maybe in her twenties, and I couldn't see a mark on her. I started to check for a pulse but stopped when I couldn't feel any heat coming off her. I grabbed another blanket.

"You should not trouble yourself so much."

"Simple respect, Morrigan."

"The dead are beyond the need for respect. It is the living who deserve it. If they deserve it."

I just gave her a stare; I don't know if it was an angry one or not. Thinking back, she was both right and wrong at the same time, but at the moment I couldn't articulate how I felt. "Just-" I shook my head. "You know, never mind." I covered the woman and went back to looking through the room, but didn't find anything else worth mentioning.

Leliana came back in through a second door. She was pale. "Jeffrey, there are more bodies out here."

Alistair was behind her. "There's mages and Templars both. It looks like the Templars started to kill the mages and the mages, well, fought back. There's another barracks here, but I don't see anything that looks like an abomination. Not that I've seen one before."

"Tetha!" Sten called.

Neria's voice rang out. "Sten, it's me!" She said something else I couldn't hear.

We regrouped in the hallway. Neria was at the end by a half-closed door, flanked by a couple of mages, both of whom regarded us carefully. One was an elven man (teenager, I learned later); the best word I have to describe him is tiny. There was also a man (human) with her.

"You see, just friends, no Templars," Neria finished.

"But, warriors?" the man asked.

"Yes!" the elf said. "And a kosith giant!"

"I told you!" Neria said happily.

The man looked to where we'd covered corpses with the blankets. "But what are they doing?"

Looks bounced back and forth and eventually settled on me. Had I done something wrong? (It turned out to be a different customs thing.) Leliana seemed okay with it, but…. "It's a custom in my homeland to do this." Oy, that sounded lame. "I meant no disrespect." That sounded lamer.

Neria covered for me. "This is Jeffrey. He's from very far away; further than Sten. He's a little strange sometimes, but he's a good man."

_Thank you,_ I thought at the time, and still mean it. She may be a bit of a ditz, but Neria's good people.

But despite Neria's endorsement, the older mage looked at me suspiciously. "A Templar?"

"No," I said firmly. "Just borrowing the armor is all."

"Don't worry," Neria added, "he's not a Templar. But Alistair is- Well, was. He used to be a Templar, but he never took his vows, and besides, he's a Grey Warden now."

The older mage seemed to be used to Neria; he waited for her to get to the point. "Grey Warden?" he asked. "Like you?" At Neria's nod, he asked, "And the others?"

"Sten, a Qunari warrior. Leliana, a…bard. Morrigan, a mage."

"An apostate!"

"Yes, but she's strong, and talented, and can probably teach us things we don't know."

"Things the Chantry forbids-"

Morrigan interrupted. "Your Chantry forbids things so as to be-"

I interrupted Morrigan. "Let's not go down that road right now. I think we've got other issues to deal with."

The older mage nodded at that. "You're right; that is a discussion for another time. Come, let's go see the senior enchanter."

"Yes!" Neria called. "Come on! I'll introduce you to Wynne!"

We followed the three mages through the next door and found a desperate sight. A quick count revealed twenty five or thirty people in the area, including a trio of Templars who'd been stripped of their armor and equipment. The mages ranged in age from a girl who appeared to be about six years old all the way to the motherly Wynne, though the range was skewed to the younger side. I was confused, although I shouldn't have been; for some reason I was thinking this was most of the mages in the Tower. In the game there's only a handful of people here; IRL (such as it is) there's bound to be a lot more. The bad thing is that the folks there represented only about a quarter to a third of the Tower's population. And these were mostly the younger mages; the apprentices and children.

But before we met Wynne I needed some info. "Neria? Does Wynne know what's going on?"

"I mentioned it-"

"Mentioned what?"

If I had to guess at Wynne's age I'd put her at about mine: late 40s. She's got that same soft look about her that almost all the mages have. Not enough exercise, not much (if any) time outdoors, and a bit more than enough to eat. (I've learned over the last couple of days that the Chantry may not care for the mages very much, but their cage is gilded.) A kind face that's aged well because of that lack of time outdoors. White hair that she keeps up in a matronly bun, but when down there's still a lot of brunette there. Kind and sweet almost to the point of saccharine, but with a hard edge to watch for.

"The…Right-"

"Yes, you mentioned it. But not much else. Like who these people are. Although I recognize this young man from Ostagar…." She nodded at Alistair.

Neria quickly made introductions then let Wynne bring the conversation back on topic.

"So Greagoir has requested the Right of Annulment?"

"Yes, he has." Neria filled Wynne on the details, but I'm not going back over those.

Wynne is sharp, though, and came to the obvious conclusion quickly enough. "So we either find Irving or be prepared to defend ourselves against the Templars. Neither choice is appealing, but action is preferable to sitting and waiting for others to decide my fate."

"So not all the caged mages are toothless," Morrigan said.

Wynne gave Morrigan a look Flemeth probably would have been proud of. "Young woman, know that even at my age I can still bite."

Morrigan smiled. Genuinely? Sardonically? "And that is good to know."

Neria gave Morrigan a look of her own, but spoke to Wynne. "I don't want to stand by and wait for the Templars. If there're survivors, and I'm sure there are-" She glanced at me. "-we should try to find them."

Wynne followed Neria's eyes to me. "How do you know there are survivors?"

Back in the crosshairs. "Are you asking me or her?"

"You. Jeffrey, is it not?"

"Well, I prefer Jeff, but…."

"And how do you know about survivors?"

"Well, somehow I seem to be tuned into the Fade…." I explained briefly about my dreams, and Niall, and how he'd said he was barely holding on, and what he thought Uldred was up to. And how he'd hoped to stop it using the Litany, which was why he was in the mess he was in.

Wynne listened carefully, only stopping me now and then to ask a question. Fortunately not about how I know things, but rather about what I know. But I must have said something that caught her attention because she suddenly said, "That was days ago. A couple of days after we'd returned from Ostagar."

"What do you mean?"

"The Templars suddenly took a very close interest in what we were doing. Although they normally monitor our actions, they suddenly began watching us very closely, not wanting to let any of us out of their sight."

I took a minute to rerun my memories and the timeline. And the realization of what happened hit me hard. "I need a moment." I turned away from the group and found a quiet spot.

Even now this is hard to write. Unless there's some sort of ontological uncertainty principal thing going on I think I precipitated the events at the Tower. To try cover my ass with the Mother at Lothering I gave her that vague warning about the Tower. She sent a message to the Templar garrison here; they cracked down on the mages. Uldred and company didn't take kindly to that, so they opened up the gates and piped in the local version of Hell. With a couple days of perspective I'm not feeling it that badly, but at the time….

My quiet spot was a relatively empty corner that was a bit too near the Templars. Two men, one woman. She surprised me; except for the commander in _DA2_ I'd never noticed any female Templars. But again, it makes sense. Anyway. They were stripped down to their smallclothes and had their hands bound behind their backs, but were otherwise fine. They watched me walk over and probably exchanged some words between themselves, but I didn't really notice.

But the nearest of them leaned towards me and interrupted my BSOD. "Brother," he said quietly, "release us and-"

I was in the middle of trying to figure out something. Anything. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Brother," he repeated, but a little shakily, "release us and we'll bring these bastards back under control."

"What the fuck makes you think I'm your brother?"

"Er, you're wearing Initiate armerk!"

I'd pulled the guy to his feet and shoved him against the wall. "You wanna repeat what you said about the mages?"

The idiot did. So I punched him in the mouth. Note: I was wearing my gloves. Leather gloves with metal rings sewn into them. I didn't feel the contact, but he did. "Say it again, motherfucker." He said something, so I hit him again. I'm ashamed to say it felt good. "Wanna try a third time?"

I didn't get the chance because Alistair and Leliana had hold of me. Alistair pried me off the guy and Leliana pulled me away. "Jeffrey! Come with me!"

I told her I was okay, but didn't really believe it. Still, I let her lead me away and find a wall to lean me against.

"Look at me."

"I can't."

"What- What is wrong?"

"It's my fault."

"What is your fault?"

"This. The Tower. The…everything. I caused it."

"How?"

I explained, poorly, the same sequence of events that I'd come up with.

Leliana just stared at me for a moment. "Andraste's Ashes, Jeffrey! How is any of this your fault?"

The thing is she's absolutely right. I might have started the ball rolling, but I'm not the one who cracked down on the mages, and I'm certainly not the one that thought summoning demons was the best way to deal with the crackdown. But still, for want of a nail and all that, and I was feeling it real good. Plus, couldn't I have done more to get us here quickly? At least I got us in the door. "I have a very finely honed sense of guilt."

She snorted. "That sounds like something Alistair would say." I didn't have anything to say to that, so I stayed quiet. Leliana finally broke the silence again. "Why did you hit that man?"

"He's a Templar." Before she could react to that I also told her what he'd said.

"I see. Do not feel badly; I might have done the same thing."

"You didn't. I did."

"And you think you are a better man than that?"

"I'm supposed to be."

"Would you do it again?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"I do not think you would. You lashed out with guilt and anger, and that is not who you are." She stared at me for a moment. "But when you lashed out you did so to protect these people." She waved a hand at the room. "That is who you are. Remember that."

"Sometimes it's not that easy."

She laughed. "Of course it is not easy! If it were easy the heroes' stories would be shorter and much less interesting. Now, are you well?"

Good question. I looked over to where I'd pounded the Templar; someone had healed his face and mouth, but he still had blood on him. "He can go to hell." Then I took a look at the blue, swirly, energy thingy that sealed off the rest of the Tower. I needed to make things, well, if not right, better. I sighed, "Although we'll be getting there first."

"You will have to tell me of this 'hell' one day."

"I won't have to. Just give me a minute to get my head back on straight and we'll head right there."


	24. Room by Room, Part I

**Late-morning/noon**

I'm still working to get this down while it's still reasonably fresh in my head. I've been bouncing back and forth writing snatches of conversations and events, and I'm wasting a lot of space while doing it. At least I found a couple more blank journals in the library here, and would you believe somebody in this 'verse invented the fountain pen? Or at least something close to it. It's a bit tricky to use and I've ruined a few pages, but I don't need to worry about my last ballpoint running dry on me. I could go with a quill if I wanted, but that just seems silly; like using a slide rule when you could use a calculator.

You know, Heinlein could have got a couple of pages out of that. Which kind of explains a lot. Anyway….

"I always thought you needed cold iron or something to fight demons."

"That's a Templar blade. They're made to kill abominations. They're just good at killing other things, too."

"If you say so."

"I say so. Are you sure you're good for this?"

"As good as I'm gonna be."

"If you don't mind me asking, what did that Templar say to you?"

"He wanted me to help him whip the mages back in line."

"I see. I guess you told him 'No'."

"Sometimes I have a way with words."

"And you were very eloquent. But, Maker, Jeff! You knocked out one of his teeth! Wynne healed him, but..."

"But what?"

Alistair dropped his voice and sounded dead serious. "Are you sure you're good for this? Because if you're not I'd rather not have you next to me."

I looked right back at him and gave my best dead serious stare. "Alistair, I'm good for this. If you don't believe me tell me right now and I'll find a place to sit my happy ass down and you won't have to worry about whether or not my head's in the game."

Alistair ran a hand through his hair and looked nervously around. "Are you sure? Maybe I should see what Neria thinks ab-"

Alistair, you're a good guy but you need to step up and make decisions for yourself. "No. You're the one I'm standing next you. This is your decision."

Alistair sighed. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

"Okay, come on."

I reached out and gripped Alistair's forearm. "I won't let you down." And that was Alistair's take on things.

Sten's words were simpler: "Had you lost yourself?"

"No. I knew exactly what I was doing."

"Then regain your control. Focus upon our active enemies."

Morrigan just gave me a knowing look.

Wynne definitely had something to say. "That was rash of you, you know. It could lead to…repercussions."

"If anybody gives you any grief about it send'em my way."

"It may not be that simple."

"I'll figure out a way to make it simple. Besides, you cleaned him up; that's gotta count for something."

"I hope it does."

Neria was both more and less concerned than Wynne. "Are you well?"

"Yep."

"Thank you."

"For…?"

"Punching Sumner."

"You know him?"

"We know all the Templars. Too well."

"Well, he pissed me off."

"He's pissed off a lot of us. He'll be the first to die if we don't find Irving. Thank you again." She kissed me on the cheek and walked away. Even now I have a hard time believing just how bloodthirsty she was about it, but I was glad she understood.

Cullen just bumped his head against me. It wasn't a big gesture, but I still appreciated it.

We didn't lose much time to my little breakdown; basically all we needed to do was drop our packs, grab a snack, and go. I poked around in my pack; the only thing extra I could think to bring was the rope. (Better to have it and not need it than the other way around.) Since we were going to be indoors I thought about leaving my glasses behind, but figured if I lost them I'd probably be losing a chunk of my face in the process. I did, however, cut a short length of rope to keep them snug on my head. Based on Wynne's advice I decided against bringing the crossbow.

The next thing I needed to do was pull Neria aside and tell her what was going on with how I felt about the whole situation. I know I didn't absolutely need to tell her, but if I didn't that would mean I'd just lied to Alistair about being good to go. I don't get it; the little lies are eating me up, but the big one's not even an issue. But when I tried to talk to Neria she cut me off and told me the same thing Leliana had. Great. All that managed to do was make me feel like a Karma Houdini.

But my head was as clear as it was going to get, and we had a pretty good idea of what we were going to face, so there was no more putting things off. Wynne gave some last-minute instructions/advice to her mages, and dropped the barrier. Forget the four-man party thing; all eight of us stepped across the threshold. Wynne turned around and nodded; a red-haired woman stepped up and restored the barrier. Neria iced our weapons and we were off.

We went twenty feet down a hallway, turned right, and saw a woman's body. Not a good start.

As we went by the body I heard Neria speak. "Kara," she said very quietly.

"Yes," Wynne agreed.

I could see bookshelves ahead through a doorway. Alistair and I swung wide and got a better look at the room and a very good look at the abomination that rushed us from its place by the shelves. I didn't get the best look at it, but take a zombie, bulk up its head and chest and arms (I couldn't see the legs; they were hidden under the remnants of mage robes), and stretch extra muscle tissue all over it without adding extra skin. Turn the hands into paws and fingers into claws. Finish up by wrapping the head in extra tissue and giving it a lovely moan. Even Alistair was a little shaken by the thing. We both took the quite sensible precaution of hunkering down behind our shields as it rushed us. We stopped it just on our side of the doorway. All three mages combined to stun-lock the thing, but I still felt a heavy blow against my shield and saw two clawed fingers hooked over the top.

I sensed Sten stepping forward from my left; he shouted as he brought his greatsword over. "Katara!"

I heard shattering, but the fingers stayed in place.

"It is dead," Sten said.

We all started to relax, but Wynne shouted, "Stay down!"

The fingers seemed to burn from within. I ducked my head and turned my face away and felt flames leap up from where the abomination was. The fire wasn't any worse than a BBQ grill lighting, but if I'd been facing it…. Still, I heard a yipe from Cullen; he was too close to the blast and got himself singed, but not badly.

We all relaxed. Except for Morrigan. We all looked at Wynne, except for Morrigan. Leliana asked the question we were all thinking (except for, probably, Morrigan). "Was that an abomination?"

And we were all nicely distracted, except, fortunately, for Morrigan. "Beware!"

Two more of the things came through the doorway. Morrigan froze the first one; the second shoved the first out of the way. Alistair and I hunkered down again. I heard an arrow hiss and spells pop off as the other ladies took care of it.

"Back up!" I shouted and turned my head. Both abominations erupted into flames. Alistair and I gave each other a look. He had his helmet on and I was wearing the coif, but we were both thinking the same thing: exploding abominations were not going to be fun, and we were both likely to lose more hair.

Sten looked back to Morrigan. "Well done," he said simply.

Even Alistair had to acknowledge Morrigan's presence of mind. "Agreed," he said, and bumped me. "We need to stay more alert."

Morrigan looked surprised and maybe pleased at the compliment, but quickly blanked her face. "Shall we move on?"

I took a look at Alistair and reached out for him. "Dude, your shield." There were heavy scratches in it. I'm pretty sure they weren't there when we started. I checked my own shield; same thing. Alistair and I eyeballed each other again. Yeah, tanking's gonna suck. "Let's be careful out there."

Alistair just nodded in return.

We moved into the library shoulder to shoulder with Sten just behind us. I could hear raspy moaning and that creepy whispering you get in horror movies. It almost sounded like there was a conversation going on, but what the hell would they be talking about? We stopped at the end of a shelf; there was just enough room for Alistair and me and Sten to be able to do our thing and keep from being flanked.

I signaled for a stop and yanked my gaze from a dead Templar. "Can you hear that?" I whispered to Alistair. He nodded. We were in a good spot, but needed to pull the bad guys. So far they hadn't shown any real intelligence; I was hoping that trend would continue. "Can, uh, anybody whistle loudly?"

Alistair responded by shouting, "Hello!" and banging his shield. I jumped and gave him an evil look. "Oh, right, invitations. Too late now; here they come."

The moaning and whispering changed to wailing. Abominations came out of the stacks. Alistair and I hunkered down again, but were ready – well, readier – this time. I lost count after five of the creatures showed up. An arrow hissed away and one of the mages shouted, "Stay low!" As the bulk of the monsters reached us a double-blast of cold stopped the first rank. The second rank clawed their way through their frozen counterparts. An arrow took one, Sten took another, Alistair and I combined to kill a third. And then one exploded, followed by two more almost simultaneously. I managed to get my head down and duck behind my shield, but Alistair cried out and stumbled back. An arm reached for him; my training kicked in (slash at exposed limbs) and I chopped (not slashed) at the limb. I didn't sever it, but it was pulled back with a squall and a spray of what I hoped was blood. My glasses kept it out of my eyes. There was another blast of cold combined with a fiery explosion; I was protecting my face well enough that it didn't hurt me, but I was feeling scorched. I thrust at another target; I think it was moving but I definitely hit something. I stepped back to help cover Alistair as something clawed at me, but I think Sten took it down. Another explosion, followed by two more; I just put my shield between them and me and tried to protect Alistair at the same time.

And it was over. This type of combat is fast, brutal, and confusing. I had no idea what anybody besides myself and Alistair were doing. The three of us on the front line were scorched and bloody. Alistair eased his helmet off to reveal some nasty blisters on his face. I only took a quick look at him, winced, and then went back to watching for more monsters. We did not want to be surprised by late adds right now.

I heard Wynne and Neria fussing over Alistair and Sten, but Sten suddenly said, "See to Jeff."

"I'm all right," I said. "How's Alistair?"

"He'll be fine."

"Maker, Jeff!" Neria was right beside me getting ready to smack me with a ball of healing energy.

"What?"

"Look at your shoulder!" and she hit me.

I took a look. Something had stabbed through the chain and padding and gave me a pretty bloody wound. I hadn't felt a thing even after Neria pointed it out. Good thing blood by itself doesn't make me squeamish.

Wynne finished with Alistair and checked me out. "It's nothing to worry about. It's just messy; you'll be fine." She hit me with her own shot of healing power.

I took a look at Alistair. He had a stripe of fresh pale skin running up the tanned backdrop of his face. "You all right?"

He nodded. "Didn't keep my shield up and almost lost an eye. Wynne took care of me, though."

I shuddered. Not at the eye-losing part, but at how blasé he was about it. Different 'verse, different customs. "Good to hear. Anybody else hurt?"

Nobody except for the front line was injured, not even Cullen**. **Either he or Neria had been smart enough to not let him get blasted by exploding abominations. The women were reasonably well shielded by the men and a bit further away from ground zero. Our basic tactics worked, but it _was_ going to be a long day (well, evening) for the tanks. "I don't suppose any of you can do something to protect us from the fire?"

"I think I can," Wynne answered, "but it will tax me."

"Your call; you're the expert. But it would be nice…."

Wynne thought about it for a moment then nodded. "The three of you. I can manage that." She concentrated and reached out to me. She touched me on the cheek; I felt cool spread through my body. She touched Alistair the same way, but when she reached for Sten he flinched back. "Either this or fire," she said gently.

"Parshara," Sten said, but he relented.

There was soft whine. "Oh, you too? Come here."

Alistair pulled me in close. "Good work there, but watch out for the fire."

"Should we keep doing the same thing?"

"I think so. Just remember to keep your shield up." He plopped his helmet back on his head.

"No problemo. Let's do this."

The library was clear of monsters. We picked our way past some more corpses, mostly mages, but a couple of Templars as well. Neria gave a name to each mage as we passed by; her voice was quiet and just a little sad.

We reached a door on the inside wall. "What's through here?" Alistair asked.

"One last room for the library," Neria answered.

"And the stairs up to the second level," Wynne added.

"Are there any other rooms off the library?" I asked.

"No."

"All righty then."

I nodded to Alistair; we took up positions by the door. Sten reached between us, pulled the latch, and pushed it open. I swore as I hunkered down, there were more abominations, plus a glowing, lava-looking, quasi-humanoid thing that hissed and glided across the floor when it saw us. I could feel the mages casting, but didn't see any effects until the lava-thing (an actual demon, Wynne told me later) hit the magical equivalent of a land mine. I was right at the edge of it; everything went purple-black for less than an instant, but other than that I was fine. The demon went flying back into the abominations; the creatures went down in a pile. Neria let out a shout; a cyclone erupted around the monsters. Well, more than a cyclone; I could feel the cold from it and bits of stinging ice were hitting me where I stood. Lines of white suddenly appeared around the demon then collapsed on it; the demon screamed as it was crushed. An abomination exploded, then another, then the last two. The blizzard continued for a moment then dissipated. Papers fluttered to the ground in the sudden silence.

"Boss seraboss!"

Alistair and I stood up and looked at the mages. Neria looked determined, Wynne satisfied, and Morrigan amused. All three were breathing heavily, though.

Alistair spoke first. "More of that, please!"

Morrigan laughed. "Anything for you, my dear." She walked between the two of us but ran a fingertip across Alistair's armored chest.

Alistair looked at me. "Well, that was just creepy."

"She's good at that, isn't she?"


	25. Room by Room, Part II

We burst out on to the second floor landing ready for…well, something, I guess, but nothing happened.

"Something is moving over there," Leliana said quietly. She aimed off to our one o'clock. I could see a couple of bodies, but nothing else.

"That's the storeroom," Wynne said. "Owain?"

A man appeared at the entrance to a caged area. "Senior Enchanter Wynne," he said flatly. "It is good that you are well. Has the danger passed?"

We walked over as a group. I kept a close eye on an open door to the left; there was a closed and barred door to the right. We didn't see any danger, but I watched the open door and made sure Leliana was watching it as well.

"No, it's still dangerous. But what are you still doing here?"

"I was unable to find a safe route to an exit, so I returned here. I am…comfortable here. Although I must apologize for the current state of the stockroom. Enchanter Niall was searching for the Litany of Adralla and caused part of the mess. The rest was caused by an abomination. I killed it. I was cleaning up until I was interrupted by your arrival."

I was facing away from the conversation, but a movement caught my eye. Morrigan was walking away, and though she was being quiet and careful, was doing her best to put as much distance between Owain and herself as she could. There was a look of disgust on her face.

"The Litany," Neria said. "Jeff, isn't that what you said Niall was trying to use?"

"Yes, but I don't-"

"The Litany of Adralla," Wynne interrupted, "is used to counter attempts at mind control. I fear we may indeed be facing blood magic on top of everything else."

"Wynne," I said, "ask your guy there when Niall got the Litany."

Owain answered immediately. "You may address your questions directly to me. Enchanter Niall retrieved the Litany of Adralla near midnight two evenings ago."

Wynne spoke again. "We need to hurry. Owain, are you safe here?"

"As safe as can be expected given the circumstances."

"You stay here then. We'll come for you when it's safe."

"I will remain here, and I will await your return."

Alistair walked up and patted me on the shoulder. "Ready?"

I nodded back towards Owain. "_That_ was creepy."

Alistair shrugged. "I've met tranquil mages before. You get used to them."

"If you say so." I looked back at Owain. He was already cleaning things up. "Good luck, Data."

"What's that?" Alistair asked.

"Nothing."

"Jeff!"

"Wynne?"

"You say you spoke to Niall in the Fade. Did he tell you where in the Tower he encountered the demon that trapped him there?"

I had to think about that for a moment. IIRC it was almost the last thing to encounter before the boss fight, but the 'verse has been throwing curve balls at me, too. I gave her my best guess. "I think it was right before the stairs to the top level, but he wasn't clear on it. And that was nearly a day ago; things might have changed."

Wynne looked up. "Two levels above us, then." She sighed and shook her head.

"You okay?"

"Okay?"

"Are you all right?"

"I see. I'm tired, and I'm afraid of what we might find, but we need to push on."

We regrouped and headed for the open door. The acoustics in this place are weird; right as we got there I could hear voices, not clearly, but there were at least two. Then I heard a third voice. I called a stop and looked to the group. "Three," I mouthed. "Mages, I think."

"Can we take them alive?" Neria whispered. "They might not be…."

"We should try," Wynne agreed.

Leliana got a predatory look. "Stand back," she whispered and peeked around the corner. She drew her bow and dropped her head. "Maker, guide my hand, but please, protect the righteous." She stepped into the doorway and aimed. "Wynne is with us! Do not-" There was a shout from the mages. Leliana loosed her arrow and immediately jumped back away from the door; I heard a cry from the other side. A fireball impacted on the doorway; another came through it and burst harmlessly on the far wall.

They weren't friendly, but fortunately these two mages weren't thinking tactically, either. They both came running through the door right after the fireballs. Alistair did his Templar shockwave thing; they both staggered. I grabbed an auburn-haired woman and spun her into the wall before anyone else could act. The impact knocked the wind out of her. I ripped her staff out of her hand and threw it away. I used my weight to pin her against the wall and put my forehead right against hers. "Don't move and don't talk and you won't get hurt." Her eyes were wide open. They were brown and pretty and scared. "Blink if you understand me."

Blink.

"Derrick. And Ulla." Wynne obviously recognized the mages. "Who was with you? Ulla?"

"Answer her."

"Ross."

"I struck him true. He is no-"

"Orlesian bi-oof!"

I'd cut Ulla off by shoving my weight into her. "I said don't move. That means no talking unless we tell you to."

Wynne put a hand on my shoulder. "Let her go."

I released Ulla and backed off. Derrick was lying on the ground, frozen, I thought. Paralyzed, I found out later. Alistair was watching him closely.

"Ulla, why did you do this?"

"Wynne, I'm sorry, but the Templars. I just couldn't…. Neria, you know what it was like. The Templars just...watching us all the time. And then the last few days. I just couldn't…. I didn't mean for this to happen, but Uldred went further than we thought he would."

I reacted to that about the way you'd think. I swore under my breath and turned away. Dealing with the people who'd caused this mess was setting me on edge on again. I'd promised Alistair that I'd keep myself under control and meant it. The problem was how to do it. But I wasn't alone. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Jeffrey," Leliana's voice was soft but firm. "This was not your fault."

She's right, but, "Still doesn't feel like it."

"We all know who is to blame for this, and it is not you."

"I know. I just- I just need some time. But, Leliana? Thanks."

I got a smile in return. "You are welcome."

I missed something during that short conversation. Sten was dragging Derrick and Alistair was walking Ulla towards the storeroom. She was looking back over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Neria. I just don't know."

Wynne was speaking quietly to Neria, who in turn was nodding. Then she took a sharp, deep breath. "Let's go."

"In a moment. We need to wait for Sten and Alistair."

It only took a moment. The pair came out of the storeroom; Sten looked particularly satisfied. "They are secure. The kostos seraboss will watch over them until our return."

"You didn't have to be that rough with them," Alistair said.

"I needed to ensure they could no longer pose a threat. Should their limbs lose feeling the kostos seraboss will care for them."

"If you say so."

"I do."

* * *

><p>"Hello, is someone there?"<p>

Alistair pointed at a wardrobe in the corner of the mage quarters. We'd got pretty paranoid by then so we took our shoulder-to-shoulder formation and squared up.

"It's safe," Wynne called. "You can come out now."

"Senior Enchanter Wynne?"

"Yes, it's me. And I have Mage Neria with me. And some other help."

"Ah, thank the Maker!"

The door rattled and opened. A mage half-fell out of the chest and hit the floor hard.

"Godwin!" Neria cried. "Are you all right?"

"Well, I'm fine, except my bum's gone to sleep. It's numb all down the left cheek."

"Young man, how did you survive?" Wynne asked.

"Well, when the demons started swarming, I…hid. In there. For as long as I needed to. I'm happy to say. Because I'm alive. And now, if you'll excuse me…." He climbed back into the wardrobe.

* * *

><p>"There's no gold. Uldred said there'd be gold."<p>

"Well, Uldred said a lot of things, but it hasn't worked out for us yet, has it?"

"That's why we need the gold. When we get out of here-"

"If we get out of here."

"_When_. Even if Uldred doesn't come through I'm not spending the rest of my life in this place!"

I leaned into Alistair. "Think we should call him out on that?"

"Why don't we just-"

Alistair was interrupted by an anguished scream from the room. We looked at each other (we'd been doing that a lot) and silently decided to stay put. A few seconds later a mage came rushing out of the room and bounced off Alistair. He (the mage) screamed again and tried to scramble away, but Sten caught him.

"De-"

"Oh, shit!" I yelled. A demon came out of the room and immediately came after Alistair and me. But we tanked it almost perfectly (that is, hid behind our shields) while the ladies took it down. I'm telling you: tanking sucks. Why couldn't I have just been an all powerful magus when I showed up?

When we came back up for air Sten was dragging the mage down the hall. He came back a few minutes later. Owain had a third prisoner to watch.

* * *

><p>I winced as Wynne carefully worked on my sword hand. I'd gotten it out too far and had the back of my glove torn open by an abomination, along with the back of my hand and wrist and a bit of my forearm. It looked and hurt like hell, but Wynne was sure I'd be fine. I'd got lucky; my chainmail was ripped apart from the elbow down.<p>

We were in the workshop where we'd been attacked by more abominations and demons. We didn't have a choke point working for us so the fight was a lot tougher than we would have liked, but mine was the worst of the wounds. But this time everybody took a hit; at the very least they got scorched by an explosion.

But there was also a good sign. There was a large door leading to a cave used for storage. Neria had checked the door and announced it locked, but no one could find the key. Leliana managed to pick the lock, but the door only opened a few inches before bumping into a mage barrier. Neria wrote a note on a random piece of parchment, tossed it in between the door and the barrier, and closed the door. We had some time to wait while I and the others were being patched up, but during the time we spent in there nobody opened the door from the other side. I probably would have made the same choice.

* * *

><p>"Jeff, I know how you feel about disturbing the dead, but just take the bloody gauntlets."<p>

I frowned at Alistair and the dead Templar. "Pardon me for having to work to overcome fifty years of cultural conditioning."

"There is no way you're fifty years old."

"Wynne, do you know what this is?"

"I'm actually forty-seven, but you wouldn't believe how often I hear that."

"Voshedan. Will you wear them if I retrieve them for you?"

"I…don't know. I've never seen anything like that before."

"Only if he's still got all ten fingers when you get them off him."

"What's that paper?"

"You know, I'm going to go over there while you do that."

I walked over to wear Wynne and Leliana were examining the back of the toppled statue of Andraste. Something started tickling the back of my brain as I got closer; I realized what was about to happen just as Wynne reached out.

You'd think a mage would know better than to touch something hidden in the back of a frakking statue. "Don't touch that!" I shot forward and literally pushed Wynne away from the statue. There was a small, hollowed out space that held a black vial. Yep, I was glad I caught that one.

"What in-"

Everyone in the room was looking at me. "I'm sorry, Wynne, but part of the research I did before coming here…. I'm not sure exactly what's in that-" I pointed at the vial. "-but it's dangerous, it's evil, and it's thoroughly pissed off. Touch that vial and you'll turn it loose. And that'll piss it off even more."

"How did you know…?"

I shook my head. "Pure luck." Pure luck that I walked over to them. I let out a slow, shaky breath.

Sten came up behind me. "Here is your gauntlet."

"Just the one?"

"You do not want to wear the left one."

* * *

><p>"I was half-expecting to find Irving here, but I guess that's too much to hope for." Wynne looked and sounded disappointed.<p>

"So many books," Alistair said with a touch of awe, "and they're all his. Do you think he's read them all?"

"He's certainly read more of them than you have." Morrigan was walking along the shelves, running her fingers along the tomes. "Hmph. You would think the mages here would find other ways to spend their time."

"We do, but books are one of our more productive pastimes."

"I see." She pulled a book, seemingly at random, examined the cover, and shelved it. "Perhaps there is something in here that would be interesting. Later would be a more prudent time, though."

"Yes, it would. Why don't we continue?"

* * *

><p>"Sir! Sir! Can you hear me? Sir!"<p>

"J9qhl"

"Sir! Can you tell me your name?"

"85y8hi85[wU3rrl"

Sudden, blinding light in my right eye, then my left.

"Not responsive."

I bounced off the stone wall in front of me.

"Why won't you sleep?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Yes. You. Do."

"Hit him again."

"Wait; we've got rhythm."

"Sir-"

"His name's Jeffrey!"

"Jeff, Jeffrey, can you hear me?"

"Neria?"

"No, my name is Susan. You've been in an accident- Sir!"

"I know you."

"You know me?"

"You're the Z-monster; you used to sneak up on me on mid shifts. But I know your tricks; I just have to-"

"Go. The fuck. To sleep."

"Come on; stay with us!"

If you thought that was confusing try experiencing it first hand. Yeah, we'd run into the sloth demon as we came out on the third floor. I went down as easily as everybody else and ended up having paramedics working on me. But I kept slipping away from the medics and bouncing back to this world, and then demon would knock me out again and I'd end up being treated by emergency responders.

But I wasn't able to stay in my home 'verse. It kept fading out. If I was in a car accident like I'd thought I'd been it was possible I was too badly damaged to come back. OTOH modern medicine is pretty damn good, and if the docs could keep me alive for a day or so my long-term prospects would look pretty good.

But.

What if the paramedics were simply my desires that the demon was tempting me with? Make it look risky, and I'd be more likely to take the iffy chance on getting home than the sure thing. And then I'm trapped.

What's the demon-induced hallucination? What's my hallucination? Which is the real reality? What if both are?

I'd finally stopped bouncing back and forth and ended up in an unlikely place. A hospital room; an ICU from the looks of it. Modern, complex, and empty of others. With a bed prominently positioned directly in front of me. And doors to a hallway that seemed to lead nowhere. Oh, yeah, I was in the Fade, and apparently the demon didn't know what to do with me. Or it did know and was letting me choose to embrace the lie it was offering me. Or maybe this was my was of coping with the Fade and the situation and the demon wasn't even in the picture any more.

I looked at the bed. There were tubes, wires, all the crap needed to keep somebody alive, but there was no body. Instead, there was a me-shaped hole where the body should be.

I looked at the door to the ward. In contrast to the bright lighting the hallway was barely lit. No overhead lighting, no emergency lighting, just the splash of light from the ward reaching a few feet then darkness.

What do I do? Do I go lay down in the bed? If I do, what happens? Am I back in my body with a chance to have it repaired? Which means a chance to wake up. Which means a chance to go back to my life in the 'verse I'm supposed to be in.

Unless this is the trap the demon's set for me. I lay down in that bed, and I "get better," and I live a life back in my world until my DA'verse body gives up and I'm trapped for whatever reason this thing has to want me trapped.

So if I walked down the hall what would happen? Do I wake back up in my DA'verse body? Do I end up in some out of the way corner of the Fade again? Or do I wander until something happens?

If I pick wrong will somebody come along and help me out?

I honestly didn't know what to choose, or even how to choose it. I didn't even have a coin to flip. I just couldn't keep standing there. But I couldn't come up with anything to differentiate my choices. I started pacing, I started breathing (yeah, I know) hard, I felt like throwing up. I felt real enough as it was, but I knew where I was didn't meet my definition of real.

So what is real? I'm real. _Cogito, ergo sum_, and all that. But what about reality? What's feeding me? Where am I getting my input from? Even right now I'm not really sure about the answer, or even if there's an objective answer. But I did know this: the last place I was in that _felt_ objectively real was the Tower. Even if I couldn't remember how I got to the DA'verse, it _felt _(wonderful: subjective objectivity) real enough. I've cried there, been scared shitless there, been hurt, been healed, been comforted there.

But damn it, turning my back on a chance to go home? Even if it wasn't a very good chance. I decided if that damn demon was gonna take me down I was gonna make him work for it.

I choked back some tears and swallowed the lump in my throat. I opened the door and walked down the hall into the darkness.

* * *

><p>AN: Some housekeeping notes first. I made some minor changes to the opening of the previous chapter. I just wasn't satisfied with what I'd published, and it was bugging me all day. Also, please let me know if it looks like Jeff is getting into Gary Sue territory. I'm trying to keep things under control with regards to that, but, as you might guess, I'm not the most objective of observers.

And again, thanks to all the readers and reviewers out there!


	26. Blatant Shout Out

The Arizona sun blinded me and made the skin on my arms tingle.

"Arg! Sunlight! My eternal nemesis!" I held up the tub of popcorn (Yum! Salty, crunchy, greasy goodness!) to block the light until my eyes adjusted as I walked out into the parking lot. "So. Whaddya think?"

"I liked it!" Evan hopped up and down and squeed. Normal behavior for him, even if he is twenty-one.

"You like everything that Pixar does-" I started.

"-except _Cars 2_," we finished simultaneously.

"So, was it better than _The Incredibles?_"

"That's a tough call. I mean, the story was just as dark, but there was a different dynamic going on. The characters felt kind of…." He trailed off thoughtfully.

"Stereotypical? Archetypical?"

"Somewhere in between. I mean, Merida's a cool action girl, but at the same time she's a stupid stubborn teenager."

"Like you?"

"No. Like Eric."

Something dinged. I stopped the banter and looked around. "Where is he?"

"Duh, Navy."

"Oh, yeah." But something started tugging at my brain. "When did that happen?"

"Right after he graduated. Are you gonna unlock the car?"

"I should have known that. Oy. See what happens when I get a good movie?" I set my Coke (Yum! Sweet, fizzy, carbonated goodness!) on the Outback's roof, dug for my keys, and dropped my knife on the ground as I pulled them out. I stared at the knife while Evan waited impatiently.

"Car? Unlock?"

I bent down and picked up my knife. I examined it for a moment then opened and closed all the tools on it. I put it back in my pocket. I looked inside the car. All my crap was in it.

"Dad, you okay?"

I looked over at Evan. "I think you better drive." I held the keys up and tossed them over the roof to him. I grabbed my Coke and we exchanged places, but everything was feeling increasingly surreal.

Evan unlocked the car's doors. And waited. "Dad, you gonna get in?"

I answered very slowly. "I don't think I should."

"Aren't you coming home?"

"I don't think I can."

"Are you okay?"

"I…. I think so. I'm…going back inside for a while."

"You're not coming home?"

"I'll give you a call when I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"No. But…." How the hell do I tell him I don't think he's real? That he's, at worst, a demon tempting me into complacency? "I've got something I need to do."

"What?"

"I've got to meet some friends. I think they need some help."

Evan looked confused. "Help with what?"

"They didn't say, but they just sent up a Bat-signal. Look, I, uh, really need to do this."

"If…you're sure."

Fuck no I wasn't sure. But…. "Tell your mom I said 'Hi'. And your brother, too, when you get a chance."

"Okay?" He got in the Subaru, started the engine, and backed out. Before he drove off he rolled down the window. He looked worried. "ByedadIloveyou."

Normally that would have made me grin. Not that time. "Love you, too."

I watched him roll up the window and drive away. I juggled the popcorn and Coke and pulled out my cell phone. No signal. I walked back into the mall, found a seat in the dark and empty food court, and tried to eat some popcorn. I couldn't; it tasted like salt and Styrofoam.

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>Empty shopping malls are creepy. Try it sometime.<p>

I threw the popcorn tub across the food court and watched the little yellow bits tumble across tables and chairs and the floor. "If it's zombies next I'm gonna be pissed!"

_Pissed_ echoed back at me.

"Fuck you!"

_You._

I got up and walked back to the exit. The sun outside was burning bright; it was too bright to see anything. I had to get moving again, though, so I walked back outside. I needed a minute to get used to the glare, and then I had an 'aw crap' moment. The parking lot was gone. The mall was gone. The sun was gone. The only thing left was a desert of sand and pebbles and the omnipresent lighting. At least I'd had the presence of mind to bring the Coke with me.

"Hello?"

"Shit."

I sighed. You do what you can with what you got. I slurped down the rest of the Coke, belched, and set the cup down where I was standing. I pulled out the straw, tossed it in the air, and looked in the direction it was pointing. It was as good as any so I started walking that way. I looked back a few times to make sure I was still walking in the same direction, but it didn't take me too long to lose sight of the cup.

I don't know how long I walked; every time I checked my watch it was 30 seconds later that the previous time I'd checked it. I didn't get tired, or thirsty, or hungry, or sunburned, or hot, or cold, or almost anything. What I did get was pissed off. I was literally in the middle of nowhere in the (probably) middle of the Fade. It wasn't supposed to work like that. I was supposed to be stuck in my own little fantasy waiting for Neria to come get me loose. I should have been eating chocolate singularity cake and playing cutthroat _Settlers of Cataan_ with my family and taking a hot shower and then doing it all over again until the little ditz showed up.

"Damn it, Neria. You better be fucking real!"

No echo.

So I kept walking. Still not tired, or thirsty, or almost anything else. I was still pissed off, but that suddenly turned to curious. The random configuration of pebbles slowly turned into a line. With nothing better to do I followed it. The line eventually started connecting various geometric shapes; those were made out of rocks also. The shapes eventually turned into interconnected patterns. The line of patterns eventually met other lines that curved away into the desert behind me, but appeared to be heading to a single point somewhere in front of me. As the patterned lines came together the shapes knit themselves together neatly into a greater pattern, and those patterns wove into a blueprint for something. What that something was I have no idea.

I stopped walking and bent down to pick up a rock. It was sitting in the slightest of divots as if someone/thing had placed it there and moved on. There were tiny, regular horizontal and vertical scratches on it. I suddenly got the feeling that not putting the rock back would be a Very Bad Thing, so I replaced it carefully in its divot. The patterns in front of me grew in complexity, but there was just enough room to walk safely, provided I was careful about where I placed my feet.

Think of a mandala. That's certainly what I was thinking of by the time I picked my way to the center of the pattern. There was an octagon several feet across with a single pebble in the middle. I thought about the problem for at least a second then stepped into the clear area.

White light flared up around me and everything tasted purple for just an instant. But the only thing I was scared of was ending up back where I'd left the cup.

* * *

><p>I didn't end up back at the cup. If I had I probably would have just given up and sat down to wait for something to happen. Instead I ended up in a forest that somehow naturally (plausibly, appropriately, believably [your choice of adjectives, although logically is probably not an option]) grew out of the desert. Before I delved into it I made sure I had a pocket full of rocks. I also pulled out my knife and made a very distinctive mark on a tree.<p>

I ran out of rocks long before I ran out of trees. At least the marks stayed in place; I was feeling suspicious enough about the situation to backtrack a couple of times. You know: just to make sure.

The forest was beautiful. Quiet (too quiet; there were no sounds at all), dark, not as foreboding as you'd think. Lovely old trees that I actually regretted marking even though I was positive they weren't real. I kept expecting one of them to yell, "Ow!" and try to beat me down. You'd expect a city boy like me to be on edge in a place like that but a Wizard of Oz tree was the only thing I was worried about. Well, that and finding who or whatever lived there.

Ding. Fate was working me. Morrigan. Those were her woods. And when I realized that it didn't take me all that long to find her. She and the imposter Flemeth were standing outside their hut. Flemeth was standing quietly with her head down, but Morrigan was animated and pacing. I started down the shallow slope leading to the hut. Morrigan froze when she saw me.

"This is interesting," she said slowly. She looked me up and down. "Traditional wear for your homeland?"

Khaki shorts, polo shirt, and Nikes, in case you're wondering. "What did you say to me when we met in that tavern in Lothering?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I said nothing to you. I did consider you to be scruffy and old. 'Counterfeit' is how I believe I described you." She crossed her arms. "And you: you are Jeffrey, are you not?"

"The only people who call me Jeffrey are Leliana and Neria. You call me Jeff. And, yes, this is traditional wear from my homeland."

"Morrigan, dear, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Quiet fiend!" Morrigan turned back to me. "You appear to be who you claim to be."

"I'm reasonably sure you're who I think you are."

"Morrigan-" Flemeth's voice had a harder edge to it. "-who is this and why is he in my forest?"

Morrigan turned back to faux-Flemeth. "I said qu-"

There was a _crack_ as faux-Flemeth slapped Morrigan. I winced; even if it was a dream that had to hurt. "You will not speak to your mother like that!"

But Morrigan laughed. "Too little, too late, fiend. But touch me again and you'll feel that slap tenfold." She spun around and stalked over to me, not stopping until her face was inches from mine. "Dressed strangely, clean shaven…." She reached out and ran a fingernail along my jaw. It was sensuously scary. (Scarily sensuous?) I shivered at the touch and she smiled. "Nervous, but not intimidated." She nodded, more to herself than to me, then relief and curiosity appeared on her face. "How were you able to find me?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. (Wait, did I need to breathe in the Fade?) "Luck? Instinct? I don't frakkin' know. I'm just glad I found someone I think's real."

"And how do you know I am real?"

I thought about it for a moment then decided to go with the smart-ass answer. I reached out for her with my index finger then raised it at Morrigan's sharp look. I gently poked her in the forehead. "Real enough for me."

She rolled her eyes. At least she didn't whack me with her staff. "If you are convinced let us leave this place." Morrigan stepped around me and started walking the direction I'd come from.

"No," faux-Flemeth shouted. "You can't leave! Think about your poor mother! What will-"

"Oh, piss off!" Morrigan shouted.

I shrugged at the disguised demon. "Take it easy." I turned around and caught up with Morrigan.

"So," she asked, "how were you able to find your way out of your dream?"

I looked back to make sure faux-Flemeth wasn't following. She wasn't. "I don't think I was ever in it. Or if I was…." It may not have been a dream. "You knew you weren't in a dream; why couldn't you just leave like I did?"

Morrigan stopped walking. "What are you not telling me?"

"Answer my question first. I might be able to give you a better answer."

"I accepted this-" She waved at the forest. "-before I realized I was dreaming. Do _not_ tell the Wardens, but I do not want be with them. I was…content in the Wilds, and I believed myself here for long enough to ensnared. 'Twas not 'til I met 'Mother' that I realized where I was and what had happened. And you?"

"I didn't really get into a dream; I kept waking up. I remember the demon telling me to go back to sleep…I don't know, a few times I guess, and when I finally ended up in a dream it didn't make any sense at all. It wasn't anywhere I wanted to be, so I just…walked out of it. Well, it wasn't quite that simple, but that's basically what happened. But it felt like hours that I'd walked."

"Time in the Fade is…unusual. A single heartbeat can last a lifetime here."

That's one thing I'd learned from _Inception_. "So I've heard. Now what?"

"We find a way out of this corner of the Fade." She looked around and smirked. "That should not prove to be difficult."

I'd cut large blazes no more than forty or fifty yards apart. There were five that we could easily see from where we were standing. "What can I say? I'm a city boy."

Morrigan genuinely laughed at that.

She wasn't laughing some indeterminate time later. We'd been tromping around her woods for…a while. The trees I'd blazed were still marked, but the trail they left just stopped at a random point in the forest. The only place we could definitely find was Morrigan's hut, and that's only because the blazes led back in that direction.

"Tell me again of how you escaped your dream."

So I did.

"But when you left this…shop of shops…you were nowhere near the stones?"

"Right."

"But 'twas the stones' pattern that lead you to the center of your dream?"

"Yeah, but…." I looked around. "I don't see any patterns here, do you?"

"Perhaps I do." Morrigan suddenly started running.

I swore and took off after her. Running in the Fade is interesting. I could go as fast as I could move my legs without running out of breath, at least until I suddenly thought about it. Then I collapsed, gasping (or maybe my body was gasping) for nonexistent air.

Morrigan's feet suddenly appeared in my vision. "Up with you!" She turned around and jogged a few yards away. I was too out of breath to appreciate the view. "Up, I said!"

"Yes, ma'am." I staggered to my and trotted along after her. But whatever had broken my concentration stayed there; I just couldn't get my breath back.

Morrigan crossed her arms and scowled. "Do you think that's air you are breathing?"

I rolled my eyes at her as I jogged past. But I was getting my wind back, and when she caught up with me we both took up a steady jog. I let Morrigan lead me back to the huts.

"Mother!" she called. "I am home!"

"My darl-" Whatever faux-Flemeth was screamed and hunched over as Morrigan hit it with a spell. Then it stood up, having morphed into some sort of demonic grandmother. It snarled and charged at Morrigan.

I'd already run past the witch, but the demon wasn't looking at me. I accelerated, dropped my shoulder, and laid a beautiful (but illegal) block on the monster. We bounced off each other; the old lady-thing was pretty solid. But that gave Morrigan time to do what she needed. I heard a couple more spells pop off, and rabid granny screamed as it dissolved into nothingness.

I stood while panting and rubbing and flexing my shoulder. Morrigan approached with a rare smile on her face. "That was brave, but foolish. Nonetheless, you have my thanks."

I shrugged. I know it shouldn't have hurt, but it did. "Anytime. So why are we back here?"

"Follow me." She walked down to the huts and stopped at the jerry-rigged door. "I believe the solution to our problem is in there."

I looked around. "But the patterns…?"

Morrigan sighed. "Sometimes foolish, and sometimes blind. I can see the pattern here even if you cannot."

"So where does it lead?"

Morrigan opened the door to the hut. White light leaked from it. "Here," she said, and walked through the door."

I immediately started after her. "Wait!" I got through the door just in time to see Morrigan dissolve in a column of light, and felt myself doing the same thing. "Shit!" At least purple doesn't taste bad.

* * *

><p>AN: Special thanks go out to alyssacousland, Aritha, The Nemean Lion, and DoorbellSpider for the much appreciated feedback they provided after the last chapter.


	27. Cheese and Whine

I ended up in Denerim. Well, Alistair's little corner of it. Sloppily if sturdily built buildings surrounded me, but there was a large open area that appeared to be the market square. Just like the forest there was no sound, but that's a lot creepier in a city than it is in the woods. In the center of the square was a small, single-story building that stood out from the other buildings by being both better built and more _there_.

But before I approached it I took a look around the market area hoping to see the pattern. The only thing obvious was the street system; they all opened into the square and quickly curved out of sight. But based on the experience with Morrigan I decided I'd probably find both Alistair and the exit from this level (if that's the right word) inside that one building.

I was also wondering where Morrigan had ended up, but unless she'd got here before me there was nothing I could do about it. OTOH, I was glad for Alistair that she wouldn't be there to see his dream, especially if it ended up being the one he experienced in-game.

Before I continue let me point out that I've had few conversations with Alistair that he's asked me to not write down, and I've respected his requests. I didn't put this in to embarrass Alistair. He's a good guy and certainly deserves to be happy, but this wasn't real. But I know his emotions were real and I got to see a part of him that I probably shouldn't have. I feel kind of bad about having gotten this deep into his head, but I needed to pull him back to whatever passes for reality around here. I hereby apologize to him for any insult offered.

With that in mind I said, "Sorry about this, dude," and walked up to the lone building. I knocked loudly, heard a thump, and waited impatiently for a few seconds. The door opened smoothly and-

"Hi, Alistair!"

"Jeff?" Alistair looked me up and down, confusion on his face. "What brings you here?"

"Well, believe it or not, I came here to see you."

The confusion flickered across his face and was replaced with happiness. "Well! That's another nice surprise I've had today."

"Another one?"

"Yes!" Alistair leaned towards me and stage whispered. "Goldanna is making her mince pie! Have you ever had mince pie? Do you like it?"

Yes, and _no_. "I don't know; I guess I'll have to find out."

Alistair grinned. "Well, you're in luck, becau-"

A hand snaked over his shoulder and a familiar voice spoke up. "Alistair, love, you didn't tell me you were expecting guests."

Alistair's grin got wider. He stepped aside slightly and reached back to pull the speaker into view. "Don't tell me you don't remember Jeff. And Jeff, you remember Neria, don't you?"

The maybe-mage stared at me suspiciously but her expression brightened as Alistair turned to her. I wasn't 100% sure she wasn't who she appeared to be, so in that brief instant of confusion, doubt, dread, and WTF I decided to play the role. "Neria! It's been so long!" I stepped forward and swept her up in a hug. She certainly felt real enough and I didn't get any claws in my back as she returned the hug, but that didn't prove anything.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, though, when Alistair clapped me on the back. "Hey now, don't make me jealous!" Then he winked. "At least not until you've met Goldanna."

"Did someone say my name?" Another woman appeared. She was definitely older than Neria and Alistair, but had a hard and worn look about her. Still, her voice was pleasant and friendly, but I was 100% sure she was just a demon playing its role.

"Goldanna! I'd like you to meet a friend of mine and Neria's. This is Jeff; he accompanied us…." Alistair trailed off and started to look confused again.

"On our adventures!" Neria chirped. "Don't you remember, Alistair? How exciting they were?" She moved away from me and went over to embrace Alistair. She rubbed her head against his neck as if she were a cat then looked up at him. "And remember how we fell in love?"

Alistair looked down at what I was suddenly sure was a demon and smiled cheesily. (Goofily would also work. No, for Alistair, 'cheesily' is definitely the word.) He hugged Neria back and was about to give her a kiss when he noticed me standing there turning red and trying sink into the floor. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you, but…." He gazed happily down at faux-Neria.

"Will your friend be staying for supper?"

I didn't catch Alistair's answer because something skittered by in the corner of my vision. I jerked around to look at it, kind of expecting to see Thing, but instead there were couple of children running around.

"Will you, Jeff? Please?"

One of the kids gave me a smile that should have been full of fangs but was instead disturbingly normal. I suppressed a shudder and looked back at Alistair. "Sure, but on one condition: let's take a short walk before we eat."

Goldanna jumped in before Alistair could answer. "No, you don't want to do that. Let us pour you some tea instead, and you both can try the new cheese I bought today."

"A new kind of cheese? Come on, Jeff!" Alistair released Neria and followed Goldanna into the house.

Sigh. I followed Alistair into the house; he plopped down in a chair next to a table, where, sure enough, there was a small ball of cheese resting. I plopped down in a chair next to his. "So, you're happy here?"

A calm and alarmingly _genuine_ smile appeared. "The happiest I've ever been. I don't know why I wanted to be a Grey Warden. I mean, I'd spend my whole life fighting and end up dying in a tunnel full of rotting darkspawn. I'd much rather be here-"

"And we are glad to have him here, let me tell you." Faux-Neria set down two steaming mugs of tea for us. They smelled wonderful. "I don't know what I would do without my Alistair."

Alistair blushed. "And I don't know what I would do without you." His line sounded a lot more sincere, but then he made googly eyes at faux-Neria. The pure syrupiness of it all made me want to gag.

I picked up my tea. It smelled just like the regular Ferelden stuff. I held the hot mug in my hands and looked at Alistair. He was glowing. Not literally, but from how he was feeling. And I was going to burst his bubble. "So how did you and Neria end up here?"

I encouraged Alistair's babbling (yeah, I know that sounds harsh, but that's what it was) while I thought about the situation. The exit had to be somewhere in the house; I just had no idea where, and no real way to figure it out. I kept feeding questions to Alistair hoping he'd snap out of the fantasy, but he was too sold on it. There was a bonus, though; the disguised demons started ignoring us and let us talk without interruption.

But it was like working a dialogue tree. Every time I started getting somewhere Alistair would circle back around, and every so often a demon would step in to reset him. But I did make some progress; it turns out Alistair 1) likes kids 2) made a tower with bottles once 3) thinks Leliana is cute 4) is scared of cows, and 5) isn't allowed in the pantry. That last one is important for two reasons.

First: "If he goes in there he'll find the cheese and eat it all. And then he'll have a tummy ache and be sad."

"And we don't want Uncle Alistair to be sad."

"And I don't like tummy aches."

"Nobody does. So let's stay out of the pantry."

"That's a good idea."

"But," I said very quietly as I leaned forward, "maybe there's a smoked cheese in there."

Alistair's eyes lit up.

"And maybe some nice, crusty bread to eat it on."

Alistair leaned forward to me. "That would be…"

"Dreamy?"

"But we'll have to be sneaky about it."

"I've got a plan. Just follow my lead."

Nod.

"Well, it's been nice visiting, but it's time to go." I stood up and stretched and tilted my head towards what I thought was the pantry.

Alistair nodded and stood up with a grin. "So soon?" He stepped over to me and clapped me on the back. "Right there," he whispered.

The door he nodded at was about five steps away. If we moved quick…. "You first," I said with a smile and a wink.

Alistair spun around and took the few steps towards the door he'd pointed out with me right behind him. He grabbed the latch and pulled it open with a triumphant shout.

"No!" Goldanna screamed.

One of the kids came at us, snarling. I grabbed a chair and swung it as the boy came over the table at us; I connected well enough to knock him away.

"Maker!"

Instead of staying down the kid twisted himself back to his feet, only now he had teeth (well, a lot more teeth) and claws.

"Shit!"

"Maker!"

I didn't wait to see what the rest of the demon family was up to. Hoping I'd guessed right I leaped at Alistair and tackled him into the pantry. Worst case we'd at least have our backs to a wall, but I guessed right. White light flared up around us as we hit the ground.

"What in Andraste's name just happened? Did I just…taste…a sunset?"

* * *

><p>lol? This is the third time Morrigan's gone past my new hunkering spot. I'm pretty well ensconced so I think she doesn't know I'm here. I wouldn't mention this except she's got one of the Tower kids running around with her and Morrigan doesn't strike me as the type that would put up with a kid for any but her own reasons. Then again, I've got a pretty good idea why she'd be poking around the Tower and she probably needs a lookout or a guide or both. OTGH: I could totally see these kids being captivated by her, and I could also see Morrigan teaching these kids how to shapeshift. I'm pretty much on board with that. (BTW, this is happening in what I'm assuming is IRL right now.)<p>

* * *

><p>"First off: I had no clue I was gonna find <em>you<em>. Second: even if I did how was I supposed to know you'd have Neria hanging all over you? Third: you were doing a lot of hanging all over in return." I finished using my dream Swiss Army knife to cut a dream point on the end of a dream chair stile. I tossed the makeshift dream spear to Alistair.

Alistair caught the short spear and glared back at me. "Well, how would you feel if someone invaded your…?" He trailed off, apparently not willing to finish the question.

"Pretty damned embarrassed." I started cutting a point into the other chair stile.

"Well, good, you know how I feel then! Oh, wait; you know exactly how I feel. Oh, Maker, I thought…. And those were demons?"

I sliced a couple more slivers off the stile.

"And you just let me ki- Oh, Maker, how am I going to be able to look at Neria again?"

"Don't. Look at…Morrigan instead."

"Oh, that's wonderful advice. It's not like she hasn't already threatened to pluck out my eyes the next time she catches me ogling her."

I stopped mid-slice. "You've ogled Morrigan?" Actually, I would have been surprised if he hadn't, but still….

Alistair turned a shade of red I thought was physiologically impossible.

"Don't answer that." I went back to sharpening the spear. "Look at Leliana instead."

"I…could do that. But I'll still have to talk to Neria. And the last time I checked that usually involves, oh, I don't know, _looking at her_."

"Then look her right in eye and act like this didn't happen."

"Oh, certainly. 'Pardon me, Neria, would you mind killing that darkspawn over there? Oh, and, I just thought you'd like to know that when we were trapped in the Fade I dreamed we were married and living with my sister.' You do know I'm holding a pointy stick and that I'm angry with you, don't you?"

I wrestled my knife out of a too-deep cut. "I don't know why you're angry with me. I mean, if I hadn't pulled you out of that…dream you'd have probably stayed there until your real body shriveled up and died."

"As opposed to shriveling up and dying of embarrassment if we ever get out of here?"

"At least now we have a better chance to get out of here."

"I'm not really that sure I want to now."

I gave him a look then shaved a couple more slivers off the point.

"Well, no, I mean…yes, I want to get out of here, but….

"You know, maybe there's a reason you had Neria in your dream the way you did."

"Hello. Pointy stick."

"Look, just cause you're afraid to-"

"I am not afraid!"

"Not afraid of what?"

Silence from Alistair.

I finished the point for my little spear and snapped my knife closed. "Let's go."

We'd popped out in the middle of nowhere again; an empty, sandy desert that looked like the others already walked through. But before we'd busted up the chair we'd stood on it in the hopes of seeing anything. We'd spotted a dark blob off in one direction, so that's the way we headed. We walked without speaking for a while, but the topic we'd been discussing hung heavy over us. The dark blob slowly started resolving itself into a forest, but it was nowhere as thick or old as Morrigan's was.

"Well, this is different," I quipped.

"Ah! Just say it!"

"Uh, say what?"

"You think I'm in love with Neria."

"That's…not what I was thinking."

"What were you thinking?"

"That those woods don't look anything like the ones I found Morrigan in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Alistair stopped and looked at me. His face was bright red again. "Do you think I'm in love with Neria?"

1) _How the hell should know? _2) _Aren't you? _3) _You don't even know what love is._ 4) "I think you have some feelings – some strong feelings – for her that are making you crazy." And making me crazy, too.

"And they are! You know, I can't think straight when she's around. Sometimes I think I can't even breathe when I'm talking to- Oh, sweet Andraste, you're not going to tell her any of this, are you?"

"Of course not!" I might tell Leliana; she'll think it's sweet. Then again, _she'd_ tell Neria, and….

"Really? You won't? Pinky swear?"

"Look, man, you trust me enough to stand next you to in a fight. You've gotta trust me enough to have your back on this."

"Pinky swear?"

"On one condition: when we're out of here, and out of the Tower, you tell Neria how you feel."

Alistair's face fell and he answered very slowly. "I don't know if I could do that."

Sometimes having someone's back means you push them into the fire. "Alistair. You don't tell her how you feel you'll never know how she feels."

"But what if she-"

"Neria's a sweetheart-" Well, a Templar-hating ADD spell-slinging sweetheart. "-and she'll be nice to you. You know, one of you will _die_ out there; what if you never tell her how you feel?"

Alistair nodded his head somberly. "I suppose you're right."

"I think I'm right, but- You want some words of wisdom from someone who's not me?"

"What does that mean?"

I mangled the quote. "A much wiser man than I said, 'One day you'll be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the things you did.'"

"So I should tell her how I feel?"

"I can't answer that for you. But, look, I've got your back on this, no matter what you decide. Pinky swear?"

Alistair truly grinned at me for the first time since I'd found him. "Pinky swear!"


	28. Fading Out, Or Is It In?

The woods were definitely not Morrigan's; the trees were thinner and younger and there was more brush. More game trails, too, Alistair pointed out, but we had no idea what that meant or what we should expect to find. At least he was better outfitted for breaking through the brush; his trousers gave him a lot better protection than my shorts gave me. OTOH, the scratches I picked up tended to fade (pun not consciously intended) away after a few minutes. But I wasn't sure if a more serious injury would fare the same way and didn't really want to find out. And we kept hearing things running through the brush; we were both glad for the spears even as short as they were.

Unfortunately neither Alistair nor I could find the pattern that Morrigan probably would have immediately spotted, and there wasn't anything obvious like a building to zero in on. So I blazed trees again while Alistair pushed through the bushes in front of me while we tried to quarter the area.

Patience, time, or stubbornness paid off. Finally.

"Aarroooowwwooo." (Let's see you try to write a groaning howl.)

"That," Alistair said, "sounds like a Mabari."

"Cullen?"

"I hope so."

"Help!"

"Neria?"

"I think so…." I hoped so, but I wasn't sure.

Alistair took off through the brush with me right behind him. We didn't go far; maybe a hundred (very subjective) yards. The sight was interesting. Neria, robes and all, was sitting about eight feet up a small tree. Cullen was hopping around the base of the tree huffing and occasionally letting out an angry-sounding howl-moan.

"I'm so glad you two are here!" Neria called. "Can you do anything to calm him down?" She pointed at the hound.

[Angry bark.] Seriously angry. As in take a timber wolf, mix in some badger, and turn it up to twelve.

Both Alistair and I kept a sensible-plus distance. Maybe if we'd been wearing armor and/or had some real weapons we'd have got closer, but remember what I said about Mabari teeth?

Alistair whistled sharply. Maybe-Cullen spun around, saw us, gave us a suspicious glare, and went back to intimidating probably-Neria.

"You'll have to do more than that," Neria called.

[Angry bark and moaning.]

"Jeff," Alistair whispered, "why does Cullen have Neria treed?"

"Why would you think?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that's not really Neria. You'd think that of all of us her Mabari would definitely recognize her."

I took a look at Alistair. If he'd thought it really was Neria he'd have probably been bright red again. Instead, he looked thoughtful.

"Come on, please?"

[Growling.]

I thought Alistair did have a very good point. If maybe-Cullen was the demon and probably-Neria was real then why wasn't Cullen coming after us? And why wouldn't a real Neria be using her magic against a demon-dog? "All right. So how do we prove it?"

Alistair whistled again. When Cullen turned around to look at him Alistair started in with a 'he's so cute' voice. "Cullen, you remember me, don't you?" The dog gave him a skeptical look. "I gave you bits of cheese, and then you bit me when I tried to stop you from snoring."

I jumped in. "And I said you have beautiful teeth, and I gave you that spicy chicken that you loved."

Alistair gave me an indignant look. "That was you that did that? Bloody dog was farting all afternoon from that."

[Approving bark.]

"So it is you!" Alistair said.

"Well, maybe. I mean, he hasn't bitten either of us yet. Or at least sniffed us." I knelt down and held my hand out. Fingers in. "Cullen, come here; make sure it's us."

The Mabari gave Neria a look and a growl then trotted the short distance over to me and Alistair. I wasn't (too) nervous, and neither was Alistair, but we both tensed up as the dog gave our hands, then us, a good sniffing.

[Happy bark.] Followed by hopping, wiggling, and slobbering.

"Hey, what about me?" faux-Neria number two called out.

I looked at Alistair. He had one of those "I'm a bad man" looks on his face. I grinned back.

"You should probably stay up there for now," Alistair called.

I knelt down to Cullen. "You really want to get her, don't you?"

[Affirmative bark.]

"Stay here for now." I grabbed Cullen's collar and turned him around. "Alistair, if you would." He grabbed Cullen's collar as well. "Okay, we've got him."

Faux-Neria ungracefully climb-dropped out of the tree and plopped on her butt.

I leaned over to Alistair. "You sure about this?"

Alistair nodded grimly. "If it's really Neria…. Well…." He shrugged. "If it's a demon, then serves it right, don't you think?"

"Can't argue with that." Without moving my hand I let go of Cullen's collar. "Your call," I told Alistair.

Alistair smacked Cullen on the shoulder. "Go get her!"

Faux-Neria screamed then grew teeth, claws, and a really bad attitude. It didn't help. The fact that Cullen was taking down a demon didn't bother us, but when that demon bore a passing resemblance to a pretty young girl I knew? I turned around. Alistair did the same.

I guess Alistair needed some noise to take his mind off the obviously stupid demon's screaming. "If you don't mind me asking, what was your, uhm, temptation?"

I figured I owed Alistair at least that much, so I gave him the short version.

"I don't know if I could have walked away from that." Alistair's voice was quiet and sober.

"It wasn't easyoof! Good boy! Did you give that nasty thing what for?" I looked back at Alistair. "But it didn't feel right, or maybe I was just too suspicious, if you know what I mean."

He shook his head. "I can't imagine having to make a choice like that."

"It wasn't easy. I felt like I was getting punched in the gut. By Sten."

We turned around to see if there was anything left of the demon. Nothing, except, maybe, some wet spots on the ground.

"So now what?" Alistair asked as he scratched Cullen behind the ears.

"We find the way out." I'd already explained what I'd learned from rescuing Morrigan, but we hadn't seen anything like that yet.

"How do we do that?"

It hadn't been too difficult to find the center of Alistair's dream, but there was no telling where the center of Cullen's was.

"I really don't know."

"Now is not the time to be joking."

"I'm not joking. I really don't know where to go from here."

"But you found me."

"Alistair, it was pure luck that I found you. For all I know I could have ended up here, or finding Neria, or Sten. I don't know; I mean I found Morrigan first-"

"The bitch! I still can't believe she ran off on you like you said."

"I don't think she meant to do it, but, yeah, I'm a little ticked off at her, too."

"I see."

I didn't, but whatever.

"What? No pithy comeback? That's not like you; are you sure you're not a demon? Cullen, make sure Jeff's not a demon."

The Mabari bumped his head against my hip. It felt like a boulder. I thumped the dog on his head and back and he nearly knocked me over when he leaned into me.

"So, not a demon."

"Nope."

"Now what?"

We tried to get Cullen to find the center, but he was more interested in running down and crunching on demon-bunnies. (Not cruel and foul-tempered rodents, but little, squishy demons that looked like rabbits but exploded into demon juice when Cullen bit into them. The dog enjoyed it a lot more than we did.) The better decision on our part was to follow the blazed trail. It took a subjective while to get back out of the forest, but the first time we looked back it was still there. So we walked a while longer and, when we looked back again, the forest seemed to be further away than it should. I taught Alistair odds & evens; we threw odds, so we started back.

It looked like we made the right choice; the forest seemed to recede as we approached it. As we got closer we could see the undergrowth was gone. There were only trees, and even those were fading away as we got closer. We stopped at the first tree we came to. It stayed solid while the rest of the copse evaporated. And that was the break we needed. We only had the one dream-tree to go by but a pattern of rocks and pebbles was clearly laid out. The three of us picked our way through the pattern (although it was nowhere near as complex as the one I'd tiptoed through) and found the center.

We both grabbed Cullen by the collar, clasped hands just to be sure, stepped into the center ring, and nothing happened.

"I know this is getting old," Alistair asked, "but now what?"

* * *

><p>Normally, I'd do something. Initiative and action and all that. You act and force the situation to react to you. Even it's not the best course of action at least you're doing something. And who knows? Maybe things will fall into place for you because you're acting and the other guy is reacting. But what to do?<p>

We spent a subjective longer while alternately swearing and fuming. Cullen, at least, was able to curl up and sleep. The only interesting thing that happened was Alistair falling in love with my Swiss Army knife; he swears he's going to have one made for himself when we get to Orzammar. (I wonder what kind of royalties I can get on that?) So we sat, chilled, and BSed until, finally, something appeared in the distance.

I sighed. "Do you think that's our rescue?"

"How eager are you to find out?"

"Not very, but…."

We hauled ourselves to our feet and watched the group approach. The blob eventually resolved into a handful of figures with one towering above the rest. Sten and the ladies. Cullen hopped to his feet, fully alert, but, like Alistair and me, suspicious of what we thought we were seeing.

"Alistair? Jeffrey?" Neria squealed. "Cullen!"

Cullen took off with a growling bark. Neria (wearing red robes instead of her green) ran forward and was promptly tackled by the Mabari. The dog pinned her down and gave her a thorough sniffing before he started licking her face. Neria's little girl came out; she curled up in a ball and wrestled with the dog while giggling crazily. I was convinced.

Alistair watched the pair for a few seconds then looked at Morrigan. "I take it you're not as happy to see me?"

Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "I was wondering which of you was making the decisions. But I see you were in safe hands with the dog."

I leaned towards Alistair. "Let it go. She's kinda got us there, anyway."

The group looked a bit different. Sten was in his normal armor but appeared to have a different sword, but maintained his normal grim expression. Wynne was in her normal robes but had her lips pinched more tightly together than usual. Leliana was wearing the Chantry robes I'd first seen her in and looked, well, embarrassed.

Everybody (except Neria and Alistair) was staring at me. I don't blame them; by Ferelden standards I was practically naked. (At least I've got the legs for it.) "What?" I asked.

Sten grumbled something.

"You are a bit underclothed," Wynne said.

I shook my head at her. "At home I'd be fine. But to get back on track: what now? Do we have a plan?"

"You would have to ask Morrigan." Wynne did not like saying that.

All eyes (except Neria) off me and on to the witch. "First things first," she said. She walked to the center of the pattern – the very center – and picked up the rock that was there. "And to whom does this belong?"

Alistair and I both shrugged.

"Which one of you was the focus of this…-" Morrigan waved her hands. "-this dream?"

Alistair and I pointed to Cullen. The Mabari was doing an excellent interpretation of a lap dog.

"Neria?"

"Morrigan?"

"If you would, have your beast destroy this." She tossed the rock to Neria.

"Cullen! Take it!" Her voice turned a bit evil as she put the rock in the dog's mouth. "Now kill it!"

The Mabari's jaw clenched and I could see the muscles in his neck flexing. There was a sudden crack; I thought it was Cullen's teeth, but he spit out chunks of rock with a satisfied look on his face. As he did the whole world seemed to waver a bit.

"Good dog," Morrigan said. "Now, just as before…." She reached out for Leliana's hand; her free hand reached towards me. "We need to be touching."

I reached for Morrigan's hand; Neria scrambled to her feet and grabbed Cullen's collar. We ended up in a daisy-chain of hand-holding with Alistair and me looking kind of confused. The group moved to surround the broken rock; Morrigan switched out hands so she had a free one.

The witch concentrated for a moment then a ball of light appeared in her hand. She slapped the light down on the rock; the light exploded, I tasted purple again, and the desert was replaced by another desert.

Morrigan reached into a pouch. "Alistair, I believe this is yours." She tossed the rock to him. "If you would be so kind as to destroy it? Unless, of course, there's something you wish to fetch from here before doing so." She said that with a knowing look.

Alistair turned bright red again, but aside from putting on his evil face didn't say anything. He put the rock on the ground and hit it a couple of times with his pointy stick to no effect.

"Try this," Sten rumbled.

The giant gave his dagger to Alistair, who in turn used the pommel to crush the rock. The world wavered again.

"Be ready," Morrigan said. We clasped hands; Morrigan cast her spell, the world turned white and tasted purple, and was replaced by…Niall?

"You're back!" he cried, but weakly. He definitely wasn't all there. He was more than just fuzzy around the edges; he looked like a reflection in a steamed mirror. "Wynne!"

"Niall!"

Morrigan turned and took steps toward me while ignoring the still-blushing Alistair. "I found no stone for you, and yet here we are."

"Where is here?"

"The final stop before confronting the demon. But no matter. What does matter is where your Fade-stone is." At my confused look she continued. "The stone that should have lied at the center of your pattern."

"It's still there, as far as I know."

"And yet we are here." Morrigan narrowed her eyes at me. "There is more to you than you know, or than you are telling. Or perhaps both. Which is it?"

"I don't know." Really, I didn't. And I still don't. About the first part, that is.

"Morrigan!" Wynne called. "We need to hurry!"

Morrigan mumbled something under her breath. "We will travel in a moment. But what shall we do about these two? And about the Sister?"

Oh, yeah, don't think I forgot about that. Leliana, Alistair, and I were all woefully underdressed and underarmed for combat. But, according to Wynne, we didn't have a choice about coming along.

"Very well, then. Everyone, be ready."

"Just a minute," I called. "Alistair, Leliana, come here." I had an idea. I had no idea if it would work, but there was literally no harm in trying. "Okay, listen. While Morrigan's casting, concentrate on how your weapons and armor feel, and smell, and sound, and, just…everything about them. Just imagine they're there like they always are- No. Know that they're there." Both of them looked at me like I was crazy. Well, maybe a little. "Just try it, okay?"

"Jeff!" Morrigan called. "We must go now."

"Let's go." We formed a circle with linked arms; Sten was carrying Niall (Niall's spirit?) like the mage was a child.

"If everyone is ready…."

I closed my eyes and tried to remember how my sword felt. It was balanced towards the pommel, with a straight, sturdy blade that was purely functional, but battered from all the recent use. It didn't weigh a lot, but it was heavy and purple was in my mouth and there was nothing in my right hand. "Damn." I still had my makeshift spear in my left.

"Interesting," Alistair said. He was wearing his right gauntlet and was holding his sword up. No other armor, but at least he had something.

"Blast!" Leliana snapped. She turned around to reveal a quiver of arrows.

"Here." Alistair handed her his spear.

"Jeff," Wynne said, "you and Leliana will have to guard Niall if we-"

Speaking of which. "Well, well. It seems you have all escaped."

The demon seemed skeletal, but it was hard to tell under the robes it was wearing. They appeared to be combination of mage apparel and Chinese silk pajamas. Then there was the "Nice hat," I mumbled. Alistair elbowed me; others were talking. It was a good two feet high and covered the demon's face all the way down to its mouth.

"You cannot hold us, demon!" Wynne snapped. "We are all-"

"Silence, please. Why don't you-"

"You separated us," Leliana called. "That means you fear us when we are together."

"Hmph. Why don't you just give me another chance? I promise to do so much better this time."

"We'll make our own happiness, thank you," Alistair added.

"Why must you all be so selfish? Just thinking about that hurts me so very badly."

"We want nothing you have to offer!" Wynne added.

"If you truly wish to battle, then we shall. Bow to your better, mortals!" Even when angry, the sloth demon spoke somnolently. And then it transformed in a glowing, ogre-like beast.

Sten roared and charged. Alistair started in, but I grabbed him. He spun to look at me. "No armor; be careful."

Alistair gave that stupid friendly grin of his. "Thanks. I will."

"Jeffrey! This way!" Leliana called me to where Niall was lying.

Poor guy. He was definitely not all there. It wasn't like I could put my hand through him, but he was fuzzy and didn't seem to be completely present. I reached out and could feel his arm; he started at the touch.

"Who's there?" His voice was whispy. Far away.

I ignored the sounds of battle from the rest of the group and got in his face. "Hey, it's me."

He seemed to recover a bit. "I remember you." He smiled. "You pinned me down and made the crossbow."

"I also told you to hang on. Remember that?"

"I remember, but it's hard. I don't think the demon's left much of me."

"Niall? Is that your name?" Leliana leaned in as well.

"You're pretty."

Leliana smiled. "Thank you. Can you stay with us? For me?"

"Yeah, come on, Niall; stay here for the pretty girl. Can you do that for her?"

"I think so."

I heard a fiery explosion and risked a glance at the group. The demon was in a different shape now; more like the fire demons we'd seen in the Tower. Sten was taking a beating, but Wynne and Neria were keeping him in the fight. Cullen was behind the demon and snapping at it, but I couldn't see Alistair or Morrigan. I turned back to Niall. His eyes were drooping. I smacked him in the face and he snapped them open. "Come on, stay with us. Help me stand him up." I didn't think it would hurt him to move around.

We got Niall to his feet and staggered him away from the fight. The movement did seem to keep him alert, but it was like dealing with a drunk. "Hey, Niall, look at the pretty girl."

"Jeffrey, stop that!"

"We're trying to keep him…alive." Ding? "Kiss him!"

"What?" Leliana blushed.

"Try kissing him; see if that helps."

"You are having me on, are you not?"

"If I was dying I think kissing you might make me better!"

"I'd like a kiss."

"From me or from her?" I smacked his face. "Stay with us. From me or from her?"

"From her."

"See?"

Leliana rolled her eyes and gave Niall a quick peck.

"No, come on! Mean it! Curl his toes!"

"Oh, fine!" And she did. Curled mine, too, so I turned my attention to the fight. The demon was flailing about ineffectively under Sten's and Cullen's assault, but otherwise seemed okay. The mages (all three this time) were looking tired. I don't know if he was down or just concealed, but I still couldn't see Alistair.

"Jeffrey, I don't think it helped enough."

I turned back to Niall. "Dude, you gotta hang on!"

"I…." He started fading. "Just…. No…."

A shout went up from behind us, and I stole a quick glance that way. Alistair had reappeared and (I found out later) performed a textbook backstab. The demon flung him away with some kind of shockwave, but Alistair got up and going again. The mages were keeping the thing locked down, but the spells were coming slowly. Sten and Cullen were still working on it.

"Niall!" Leliana cried.

The demon suddenly convulsed, and another shockwave erupted from it, but this one didn't have any effect that I could see. Except that when it was over the demon was in its original(?) form again, but this time it was clearly losing the fight. It only took a short time; it felt like 30 seconds or so, and the group killed the thing. At least as well as something like that can be killed. But….

"He's gone," Leliana said.

Niall was gone. Literally. He'd faded out right before the demon's last shapechange. It made me wonder just how much the demon was pulling from him. And whatever happened to whatever was left of him. I've always been pretty sure there's some kind of afterlife, but what happens if your soul is just drained by a demon? Is there another level to the Fade? An afterlife area, maybe, as opposed to the dreaming area?

That also begs the question: how nice (or bad [your choice]) is the Fade from an afterlife perspective? The dream part of it, at least what I've seen when there haven't been demons involved, is pretty boring. Leliana says those seen favorably by the Maker get to sit at his side along with Andraste, and that the wicked are doomed to roam the Fade forever. Sounds better than our version of hell, but then what? Do they wander for a while with the possibility of redemption? Or reincarnation with a chance to do it better next time? Maybe the truly wicked forget who they were and become demons. Or maybe the wicked (or at least the jerks) get thrown from their verse into a different one for another try.

But all I knew at the moment was that Niall was dead, and when he died, the sloth demon didn't have anything to pull energy from, and it went down, too. And then everything went white and purple and sunset and cinnamon, and I realized I was stiff and achy and needed to pee pretty badly.

Leliana broke the silence. "Wynne, I'm sorry, but I don't think Niall…."

Wynne gave her a sad smile. "I know, child, but thank you."

I sat up and looked around. The rest of the group was sitting up, working out kinks, and looking around hopefully. We exchanged looks; we were where we were supposed to be, and I'm pretty sure any dreams we were stuck in wouldn't involve a dead demon and the pain I'm sure everybody was feeling.

But there was one last thing I wanted to do. You know the totem thing from _Inception_?(I'm assuming you're from a verse where _Inception _exists.) I dug out my Swiss Army knife and opened and closed all the tools. It's seen better days; a couple of the tools don't work quite the way they should. AFAIK I'm the only one who knows the details. So with that in mind I performed a reality check.

Reality? Check.

* * *

><p><em>AN: From a gameplay perspective it makes sense for the PC to break everyone out of the Fade, but from a more, uh, realistic perspective I'd think either Wynne or Morrigan would have much more experience dealing with it._

_Thanks to everyone who's been so patiently waiting for this update. We've been dealing with some personal matters at our end and just weren't able to get any work done on the fics. As always, all the reviewing, favoriting, and alerting are appreciated. Thanks everybody for keeping me motivated!_


	29. Room by Room, Part III

A large open room. Perfect for the bad guys. Three corpses literally jumped to their feet as we approached; at least I know how to take down zombies. The problem was there were a lot of them; I lost count after those first three. Alistair and I got flanked almost immediately. There was a brutal, ugly melee where the mages ended up fighting almost hand to hand with the deadites. Alistair and I both turned around to help as best we could, but we had to take care to not hit friendlies.

And suddenly something hit me like a linebacker. I was slammed into one of the zombies hard enough to knock it away from Wynne. Despite the pain I was feeling from whatever hit me I took advantage of the distraction and crushed its (the zombie's, not the distraction's) head while it staggered. Before I could get back into the fray, though, Wynne grabbed and pulled me out of Leliana's way. I heard her bow twang and an arrow hiss away; that was shortly followed by a screech from across the room.

Wynne's hands flared with light. I felt the pains disappear; I nodded thanks to Wynne and jumped back into the fray.

* * *

><p>Another room but with two demons in it this time. Alistair and I held them at the doorway, but Neria's blizzard wasn't quite centered properly. And then the abominations began exploding. Both Alistair and I ended up with frostbite and second degree burns to go along with our cuts and bruises. Wynne and Neria spent a few minutes patching us back up, but did I mention that tanking sucks?<p>

* * *

><p>A group of Templars reacted to our opening a door by popping off their anti-magic explosions. Fortunately for the men it didn't affect us, but I heard cries and grunts from behind me as the mages were sent sprawling. Alistair and I braced for impact as the Templars rushed us and we somehow, with Sten's help, managed to contain the rush in the doorway. An arrow hissed into one of the Templars but didn't seem to hurt him.<p>

"Abominations! Take them!" someone called from the back of the room.

Alistair had briefed me on these guys: use thrusts to pierce the weak spots of the armor, or swing the blade flat at their heads. The plate armor they wear is pretty strong stuff; apparently it's built to handle attacks from abominations and/or demons, and we had a hard time getting through. But, fortunately for us, the Templars didn't seem to have their heads in the fight. Aside from stunning the mages their tactics consisted of running into Alistair and me and trying to get past us to the ladies. Their fighting didn't seem to be up to par either; I didn't (and don't) know if that's from the mind control the demons were using on them, or if they just weren't used to fighting opponents that fought back with swords and shields.

To be honest I didn't (and don't) care. In retrospect I probably wasn't ready to go up against a real, thinking opponent. Darkspawn and demons are one thing: they just charge and try to overpower you by strength or numbers. (Although, according to Alistair, smarter groups of darkspawn use more elaborate tactics.) I expected the Templars to simply be better than they were. As it was I managed to ring one Templar's bell first thing and he went down pretty quick.

The melee was even more brutal than before. The quarters were too tight to really swing swords properly (except for Sten, who just reached over us to chop at heads) so both sides ended up slamming at each other with shields and pommels. Even Cullen couldn't get through, although if he had he wouldn't have fared well. I ended up saying _fuck it_ to my sword and dropped it; I was actually more effective without it. I just started reaching in and grabbing at whatever was in reach; it's really easy to pull a shield down and let Alistair or Sten whack at whatever it was protecting.

The only advantages we had were the downed Templar that half-blocked the door, and the mages; they'd eventually managed to recover both their feet and their mana and turned the tide in our favor.

I found out later there was a demon in the room, but during the fight I didn't know or care. I was punched, scratched, bashed, and even took a (very light) blow upside the head. I think I gave back as good as I got, but my chain ended taking a lot of abuse, and it doesn't provide the protection plate does. I definitely need to upgrade, but I don't know if they'll let me out of here with a set of Templar armor.

Three of the six Templars survived. Wynne was probably not trying to kill them; Morrigan probably was. Neria I'm not sure about, but the guy I knocked down was alive despite the probable brain damage I'd given him. Alistair pulled off the Templar's helmet and handed it to me. The girl, it turns out, I'd knocked out was young; she looked like she was still a teenager. She was alive, but probably concussed badly enough that she wouldn't be for long without medical help or magical healing.

So when Neria came up to me after the fight to take care of my bloody head wound I pointed her at the girl. "Take care of her first."

"No." The refusal was flat, but I could sense the anger. Neria had been thrown back into the wall by the anti-magic blasts. One of her braids had come loose; hair was in her face, and she had a bloody streak down the side of her neck. Her robes were rumpled, scorched, torn, and stained with various bodily fluids. She looked tired but stubborn.

"Please, she'll probably die-"

"I don't care." She didn't even look at the fallen Templar. If the two were in my 'verse they'd likely be hanging out at the mall together. But here…. "You're the one I care about here." She grimaced then gave me a tired smile. "Not that way, but, you know…. I'm taking care of you." She called up the healing energy and reached out for me.

I caught her hand. "Please."

Neria was torn between pleasing me and not giving a damn about the Templar. She stared hard at me for a moment then finally gave in. "Only because you asked. Wynne? Could you check on her?" The older mage assented and moved to the fallen Templar. Neria looked back to me. "Good enough?"

"Wynne's exhausted."

She was. Wynne didn't look as ragged as Neria, but was moving in a way that said she didn't have much left. Still, Wynne had that determined look that meant she'd see this all the way through if it was at all possible.

"Maybe, but she's a better healer than I am. And head injuries are tricky." She gave me puppy dog eyes. "Now can-"

I released her hand. "Go ahead." I have to admit I felt a lot better after she took care of me, but I was still worried about the Templar. No, not because she's a girl, but just because. If it weren't for the demon infestation she'd probably be glowering harmlessly at some mages as opposed to trying to kill us.

Anyway, the relief must have shown on my face because Neria gave me a warm but tired smile. "All better now, right?"

"Well, not all better, but good enough." I was still tired, and had a bunch of little aches and pains, and my knees were hurting. But, overall, good enough.

"Hold still," Neria said. Another healing glow appeared in her shaking hand. She pressed it into my chest.

The aches faded a bit and I felt my energy returning. Not to the point it was at when we started the slog, but definitely better than it had been. But the infusion made me feel warm and sleepy and I leaned into Neria. "Sorry, but that was nice. I think Alistair would like one, too."

She gave me a grin. "I'll do that." She pushed me back to standing and went to find Alistair.

I looked down at the helmet I was holding then at Wynne. "How is she?"

Wynne looked like hell. Working on the Templar must have drained more juice than she'd let on. "I think she'll be fine. She might need some time and some more healing, she should be fine." Her eyes weren't really focused and her voice was a long way away.

"How 'bout you?"

She reached into a fold of her robe and pulled out a vial with some blue liquid. Mana potion. She popped the top and slugged it down. The spark suddenly came back to her eyes. Wynne gave me a wink. "I'm not supposed to use those, but sometimes…."

"I totally understand. Got a spare one for me?"

She smiled at that. "Now, where's Neria?"

I pointed to where she was speaking with a refreshed Alistair. Wynne set her mouth and stalked over to the pair. The Templar was breathing steadily but was still unconscious. I looked at her helmet. It seemed like it was large enough to fit me, so I gave it a try. I had to take my glasses and the coif off. The back of the coif and the underpadding were split in two.

"It's not supposed to do that," Alistair said.

"I have no idea when this happened."

"You were very lucky."

"You're telling me." I felt the back of my head but there wasn't even a scratch. The nylon cord I'd used with my glasses was cut halfway through. I spent the next few minutes futzing with the Templar helmet to get it to sit right. When she was finished arguing with (that is: speaking sternly to) Neria about something (probably the Templars) I asked Wynne to hold my glasses. Not having them didn't matter because I couldn't see squat out of that helmet anyway. It makes me wonder how much actual watching the Templars are able to do.

* * *

><p>The center room contained some more zombies and a couple of animated skeletons. Along with more abominations. More slashing damage, more burns, and more healing ensued. Damn it was getting old.<p>

But more importantly there was some kind of growth coming out of the floor and the statuary. Kinda like fleshy moss combined with that skin that pudding gets when its been in the fridge too long. It looked infected, if that's possible for stone. Wynne told us it was demonic corruption; Morrigan said it reminded her of darkspawn taint. According to Wynne the corruption, unlike darkspawn taint, wasn't infectious, but none of us touched the stuff and we didn't walk on it until our mages burned a path across it.

* * *

><p>The entry area to the next level had more of the corruption, but a lot more bodies, burned and otherwise, than anyone was expecting.<p>

"Templars," Alistair said. "Knights and even some Initiates." He shook his head. "I could have been here if not for Duncan."

"You all-"

"Quiet!" Sten ordered. He followed up with a whisper. "I hear voices." He pointed with his sword. "That way."

"These are Templar quarters," Wynne said quietly. "I believe this is one of the commanders' rooms."

As we drew closer we could the voices more clearly. A deep, husky, feminine voice speaking smoothly counterpointed by a stilted, forced male voice. Alistair and I threw odds 'n evens to see who'd go look; he lost. But as he eased up to the door the female voice changed.

"There is someone at the door, my dear. I will see who it is and return in a moment.'

"Please hurry, my darling."

Alistair backpedaled to me and, somehow, through our helmets, gave me a look of embarrassment.

And the desire demon stepped through the door. It approached us slowly, (attempting to do so) sensuously, but failing in my eyes. Maybe I'm too old or too cynical, but its hyper-sexuality just doesn't do a thing for me.

"You are intruding on a loving, intimate moment and I dislike disruptions."

Alistair snorted. "There's nothing loving or intimate going on here!" His voice was muffled by his helmet but I could detect the outrage. And his body language screamed _this is wrong!_

"Who is there, darling?"

"I'll be but another moment," the demon called over its shoulder. It turned back to us. "Do not spoil this for him; I am giving him everything he always wanted."

"It's an illusion. It's not real! It's- It's wrong!" Alistair snapped. His voice was cracking.

"Is it so wrong? He is happy now. I give-"

"No! Release him or die!" Alistair pointed a shaking sword at the demon.

It took a step towards Alistair and cocked its head. "I would be willing to release him," she purred while staring at Alistair, "but I would ask for a fair trade in return." She took a final step and stopped with a purple finger on Alistair's shield. With seemingly no effort she pushed the wall of wood and metal down, then reached for him. "This one would do nicely; he is-"

I took a step towards Alistair and gave him a shove. "Snap out of it."

Alistair shook his head and snapped his shield back up. I heard him growl but he didn't move.

The demon snatched her hand away then locked eyes with me. "This one…yearns."

_Home. Money. Sex. Home. Power. Excitement. Comfort. _Home. I forced myself to blink. "But it's all bullshit." It wouldn't feel like it, though…. I shook my head and the demon's thoughts left me.

The demon looked behind me. "You, darling; you have-"

Leliana let out a shuddering breath. "The Maker protects-"

"Enough!" Neria sounded pissed again. "No Templar is worth-"

"Neria," Wynne said warningly.

"Not even the large one?" the demon asked.

Sten snorted. "I cannot be tempted by anything you have to offer."

Neria again. "Keep the Templar for all-"

Wynne. "Neria, no! We cannot leave him like-"

"He wouldn't give us that much consideration."

Somewhere behind the botox-pleasure-face I could see anger developing in the demon. "My patience is waning. "

Alistair turned his head. "Neria, are you sure about this?"

"'Tis an ironic fate, is it not?"

"No!" Wynne shouted, and the air crackled as a spell shot past me.

Ice formed around the demon but it flexed and shattered the thin layer. "Husband, bandits at the door! They come for the children!"

A man's voice responded from the room. "Hide yourself and the children, my love! I'll take them! Come my friends!"

Aw, crap.

One of the mages hit the demon at the same time an arrow did. The demon screeched and a Templar appeared at the doorway, sans helmet. "Maker take you!" He popped off one of those anti-magic explosions, but, guess what? Alistair and I aren't mages, and the ladies were safely behind us. The shockwave washed harmlessly over us. Then the adds came out of the room: a few zombies and an abomination.

A single Templar versus three mages isn't a fair fight, even when the Templar has some melee backup. We meatshields did our job and kept the mages safe while they turned the hallway into a grinder. Alistair tanked over the demon; Sten and I took care of the Templar. He went down hard when a blow from Sten got him in his head. After that it was just a few more seconds of mopping up.

"Did the Knight-Lieutenant survive?" Wynne asked. "I kept trying to put him to sleep, but he wouldn't…."

He was bleeding pretty bad from his wound, and from an ear and his nose. It didn't look good, but Sten checked him. "He lives."

"Let me see him."

"Wynne, no! We don't have time for this."

"Neria, I will not leave this man to die."

"Wynne, he's a Templar; do you think he'd care that much about us? Just leave him." Neria looked at Alistair and shifted gears. "I'm sorry; I know you'd care. I meant no offense."

"Uh, none taken."

"I am not leaving him. If need be go on without me. I'll catch up."

"Wynne, no! We need you more than he does."

"I won't argue with you any longer. Now step aside."

I'd been watching the hallway for more adds and felt rather than heard Wynne come up behind me.

"If you'd pardon me, young man."

"Me?" I asked as I stepped aside. "That's not something I normally get called."

Wynne knelt down to examine the Templar. "What do you normally get called?"

"Usually it's somehey!"

Neria had slapped me on the helmet. Not hard, but it got my attention. "Let's go," she said. "Alistair, you too."

"Hang on a minute; you knocked my helmet out of whack." I took it off and made a show of futzing with it. Neria was making one of those get-someone-killed decisions in order to prove a point. I still haven't called her out on it but I'm gonna have to soon. I was able to give Wynne a couple of minutes while Neria waited impatiently for me. (Although, to be honest, I wasn't looking forward to putting the helmet back on. It's hot, heavy, and I can't see for squat out of it. But better that than the potential alternatives. I'm sure you can come up with a few.) I think Wynne realized what I was doing because eventually gave me a quick nod. I futzed a bit more then acted like whatever was bothering me had been fixed. Wynne had the grace to stay with the Templar as we moved forward.

* * *

><p>The Templars exploded out of their quarters while popping off their anti-magic explosions. It was my turn to pull; I'd opened the door and immediately sprinted back to the group. Fortunately we'd stayed spread out so the mages weren't in immediate danger. There were at least half a dozen Templars in there plus a desire demon. When I yanked the door open multiple waves of anti-magic washed over me. Guess what? Not a mage! Neria tossed a well-timed (and aimed) blizzard behind me. For a change I actually got to watch and comprehend the action. Leliana skewered the demon even through the blizzard winds. The Templars staggered through the winds trying to reach our line, but collapsed as each of the mages individually targeted them. One of the Templars actually reached us, but he didn't have anything left. Again, there were survivors, and again, Neria and Wynne argued about what to do with them. I ended up giving up my rope to help secure this bunch.<p>

* * *

><p>Alistair yanked open the door to the next room then visibly relaxed. "Safe!" he called back to us.<p>

Sten and I moved forward, then the rest followed as Alistair called out again. There was more demonic growth in the place along with the bodies of two mages, one man, one woman.

I walked up to the man. It was Niall. He was holding a large but thin book tightly to his chest; I figured that was the Litany he'd told us about. "Sorry, man, but we tried," I said, and knelt down to take the book. He, or rather his body, didn't want to let it go. I tugged on the book and had a WTF moment. It seemed like he _was_ holding on to the book. I took off my gauntlet and placed my bare hand over Niall's nose. It took a moment, but I finally felt a weak breath. "Wynne, he's alive!"

It didn't make up for everything else that had happened, but I wanted to think that somehow I'd convinced Niall to hang on those last few minutes. Turns out it was Leliana's kiss that broke him free. Niall told me later he woke up with a woody then immediately passed out again; we'd broken whatever connection the demon had with him. He later thanked us all but gushed over Leliana (not that I blame him), but, hey, the kiss was my idea, right?

* * *

><p><em>AN: Wow, the hit count is OVER NINE THOUSAND! Thank you, everyone!_


	30. Boss Fight

A few more rooms, a few more demons, including one that was kind of tough to take down. Wynne called it a rage demon, but that didn't seem to help it any. We tanked and we spanked and let the ranged DPS do their job. But, more dings on both me and Alistair, more mana drained from the mages, and Leliana's only got a couple of arrows left. Everybody was tired and needed some rest, but we pushed on.

* * *

><p>"This trick again?"<p>

We finally reached the trapped Templar. He was hunkered down in a spherical force field that looked a lot like the door-blocker Wynne had set.

"Are you all right?" Alistair asked.

"Please, if you're human, release me from this!"

"He has been here for some time," Leliana said. "And denied food and water as well. I can tell," she finished quietly.

"Cullen," Wynne said gently. "I have water-"

_Cullen?_ I thought, and wondered why Neria named the dog after a Templar.

"No, stay away! You see into my head and tempt me with the thing I cannot have! I showed weakness with my infatuation, with my longing for her, and that's used to trap me!"

Ding.

"Oh, Maker," Neria muttered. The entire group turned to look at her. Under the dirt and exhaustion she looked embarrassed. "He…has…fee-"

"It can't be," Cullen moaned. "I close my eyes and you're gone, but why doesn't it work this time?"

"He's also not very bright."

"Hah! You can't blame me for being careful." He stared suspiciously at Neria. "If it's really you why are you back? How did get here? How did you survive?"

"This is my home!"

"And it's mine, too. But not any longer! They took us and tormented us and…changed some of us-"

"Not all the Templars are dead," Wynne said quietly. "Some of the possessed ones; we've freed them."

"Then go back and fetch them and take them to the Harrowing Chamber! That's the only way you'll stop this!"

"I think that might-"

"No!" Neria was right up against the field. "I won't-"

"Yes! The only way to be sure there's no abominations or blood mages left is to kill everyone!" Cullen flinched back as he finished.

Neria's arm was raised and she was holding a ball of energy in her hand. "Then I'll start with you!"

Wynne grabbed Neria's arm as Morrigan spoke. "Simply give the command, Neria…."

Wynne gave her an icy stare. "Morrigan, you will not harm this man."

"Uhm," Alistair said, "I think things are-"

"I will kill every Templar in this Tower before-"

"Neria, you will calm down!"

"Your command?"

[growling], but I'm not sure who at.

"You see, you can't be trusted!"

Sten started grumbling under his breath.

I'd had enough, too. "Hey!" I shouted in my pissed NCO voice. (I've never been able to do those sharp, loud whistles, but this was just as good.) "Everybody. Shut. The fuck. Up." They did. I pointed up the steps, although I'd probably just doubled the noise level. "Neria, what do you want out of this?"

No hesitation. "To save as much of my family as I can."

I thought about that for a few seconds. "And if that means killing _some_ mages…?"

"If they don't surrender we'll do what we have to do." She looked determined but definitely not happy.

"Wynne, any objections?"

She opened her mouth but I cut her off.

"Good! First priority is Irving; he stays alive if at all possible. Second, we keep as many friendly mages-"

"None of them are friendly!"

"I wasn't talking to you! If he opens his mouth again put him to sleep." I didn't know if a spell would penetrate the barrier, but whatever. "Friendly mages, we keep them alive. All hostiles, mages, demons, whatever; they get one chance to surrender, then they're fair game. Leliana, that means when whoever's in charge up there starts monologing you put-"

"Monologing?"

"When the head bad guy-"

"Uldred," Wynne said.

"Uldred, thank you, Wynne. He gets one chance to surrender." I didn't think he'd take it, but hey." But if he doesn't then he starts talking about how wonderful his plan is and why we should join with him or something like that; just shoot him." It was a much better plan than letting him do his transformation.

"Jeff, no!" Wynne snapped.

"Leliana, can you do that?"

She actually smiled a little. "Yes, I can do that, as long as Neria does not object."

"Not as long as we give him a chance to surrender."

"You cannot-"

"Wynne, enough!" Neria said. "We'll save as many as we can, but even you know Uldred's gone too far."

Wynne closed her eyes and shook her head. "You're right, but we save as many as we can."

"No," I said. "One chance to surrender, and that's it. Then we hit them as hard as we can. No, uh, no quarter, because we won't get any. Not from them, or the Templars when they show up." I stared hard at Wynne while saying this.

She stared back but finally gave up. "Very well."

"Neria?"

"Agreed."

"Wynne, you've got the Litany and know how to use it, right? Leliana, be ready with that arrow; if we can drop Uldred quick there may not be a fight. Everybody ready?" The group didn't look too enthused. "Oh, come on. This is a good plan! I like this plan! I'm _excited_ about this plan! Let's go!"

* * *

><p>Irving was in a crumpled heap off to one side of Uldred. I slowly drifted over to the opposite side while Uldred ranted. Needless to see he'd turned down the request to surrender.<p>

"He'll serve me eventually, as will you." Uldred turned to face me. "What do you think you're doing over there, little warrior?"

"Distracting you so she can do this." I nodded to Leliana.

It was a beautiful shot. Caught Uldred right through the neck. Problem was it didn't even inconvenience him. Uldred reached up, grabbed the arrowhead, and pulled it the rest of the way through his neck. Pretty cool to see, but a definite 'Oh, crap' moment if there ever was one.

It was followed by an even bigger 'Oh crap' moment. Uldred's skin split off him as if something bigger was hidden inside him. There was. Thing's second cousin stood up half again as tall as Uldred and flexed huge, scaly, spiky, purple muscles as it screamed defiance at us all. Bits of skin hung off the creature. I kinda knew this was going to happen, so I wasn't too freaked out. And Leliana's shot was a gamble anyway.

There were a few mages plus Irving just lying on the floor, but there was another mage, a probable friendly, scrambling backwards out of a circle on the floor. Uldred had three abominations flanking him, plus three other mages behind them. The air immediately smelled of ozone and frozen burnt meat as the first set of spells snapped off from both sides.

I picked my target: one of Uldred's mages. He'd aimed a fireball at me but I got my shield up in time to block the worst of it. I leaned forward and sprinted at him. That wasn't what he was expecting me to do; his eyes got wide as I closed the distance then he disappeared when my shield collided with him. He reappeared a few feet away on the ground and was struggling to move.

Something screeched, and an abomination (or two) exploded, and Uldred's Borg voice rang out. "Accept my gift."

I slashed at the mage standing nearest me and connected with his staff. I reversed the sword quickly and half-cut, half-smacked him on the arm. He let out a cry of pain as a shockwave from the third mage washed over and staggered me back. I recovered and came back at the second mage. I feinted with my sword and instead ran the guy over and stepped on him a couple of times. I don't know if I took him permanently out of the fight because the third mage stepped up.

You know how in _The Last Airbender_ the kids would do some kind of martial arts move and send somebody flying across the room? That happened to me. The receiving part. The third mage literally shoved her hands at me and hit me with something that looked and felt like a chunk of the stone floor. I felt myself flying sideways and ended up skidding to a stop. Something else reached for me but a pair of shapely legs straddled me; their owner chased off my attacker.

"Are you well?" Ah, Morrigan. Like I said, nice legs.

"I think so," but when I tried to push myself up my right arm screamed. "Little help."

Morrigan half-dragged me to my feet then released me to stagger on my own as she did something that made somebody or something else scream. I didn't think my arm was broken, but that didn't really matter because I had no idea where my sword was at. But I still had the Templar shield and a hundred eighty pounds of grouchy (I'm not the Hulk; getting thrown across the room actually calmed me down) to go with it. I just needed a target.

It took me a few seconds before I found one. I saw a mage (a friendly) backing away from a demon. Ice and water was shedding off the creature, but the mage was probably tapped out of mana. He was throwing energy from his hands but that was only slowing the thing down. I figured I could at least give the guy a few seconds to get some mana back, so in I went. I charged the demon and hit it square; it was like running into a statue, but it stopped for a second then started slowly but steadily pushing me back.

Molten hands lashed at me while I looked back at the mage. "Tell me when-"

"Ware the circle!"

I looked down and realized why the mage had been fighting to slow the demon. There was another mage on the ground in the circle Uldred had been using to convert the mages to abominations. "Stop it!"

Power, but not enough, flared out and around me. "I can't!"

I tried digging in but the demon had momentum working for it. It pushed me into the circle, smacked my shield aside, and reached for me. I somehow got my right arm up; the demon grabbed it. I could feel the heat through the gauntlet but before I could fight back its head came at mine.

I screamed as the demon's hand burned into and through my gauntlet but I found enough strength to yank loose. The movement gave me a chance to bring my shield around. I clipped the demon hard but didn't even stagger it; it responded by slamming the shield hard enough to send me flying on to my back. It surged towards me; I scrambled backwards through the sand hoping to gain a few seconds to get my feet under me. I only managed to get two; I got halfway up when the demon ran into me again. It sent me stumbling around and I fell face-first in the sand. I scrambled with hand and shield and feet, spitting sand out of my mouth, hoping to get clear long enough to do anything, and ran into a wall. My head spun from the shock of the impact and I staggered sideways. As I did I realized the wall was black and green and had legs and was oh shit Thing.

Thing reached out with a clawed insectoid hand and shoved me away. I ended up face down in the sand again; I heard the demon's tea-kettle hiss combine with Thing's alien screech. I'm not ashamed to say I pissed myself out of pure fear as I curled up into a ball of panic waiting for a claw, or heat, or teeth, or whatever it was to come after me. I didn't feel anything physical but I flinched every time I heard a noise from the pair, and I screamed (yes, in fear) when nothing more than sand got kicked on me. Yeah, well, let's see how you react when you're waiting for a couple of predators to finish arguing over which one of them gets to eat your soul.

When things finally got quiet and still, except for some heavy and very shaky breathing on my part (pure psycho-physical reaction considering I was in the Fade again) I decided to open my eyes. Well, I unclenched my left eye. Yeah, Thing was there, but hunched down and waiting. I was shaking so hard I'm surprised I was able to do it, but I finally rolled over to sit and looked at Thing. It stared back at me with that same _I wonder how you taste_ lack of expression it always had.

It took me a while to get some wet in my mouth to be able to speak. "Uck." I tried again. "Uhm." I needed a couple more tries to actually get some connected syllables out, then a couple more tries after that to actually have them make sense. "Sorry about the crossbow thing that time."

Thing unfolded and glided towards me.

"And the demon; that was very well done. I didn'turk-"

It reached out and grabbed me by the arm and shoulder. It didn't hurt; I guess fear is a quick way to heal, at least in the Fade. It stared at me eyelessly for a bit, but I felt the fear of impending annihilation fade away as the fear of Thing was reinforced. It just looked at me like it would chew my face off. Then it dragged me back to my Fade circle and threw me through the barrier.

Ding. "So, uh, this is where I belong then?"

If Thing could have glowered it would have.

Ding. "And you're here to keep me…here."

I imagined eyebrows furrowing.

Ding again. "And safe, too. Why, thank you, Thing."

There was a distinct impression of _you're so _not _welcome._

"I don't suppose you have any dry pants?"

* * *

><p>I woke up needing to scratch my nuts. Especially the right one. Now, I know the ladies just don't get it, but hey, it's a standard guy thing. We do it every morning. It's a ritual. It's natural. It's a normal part of waking up. So I'm sure you wondering why I'm bringing this up. Well, it's important enough to write about, but I'll come back to it shortly.<p>

Anyway, I put off scratching because I woke up with a face next to mine. I started but the boy just giggled. "Good day, ser!" He was staring at me curiously, but jumped up out of his chair with a book in hand. I think he was one of the kids that Wynne had been protecting when we arrived, but I wasn't sure. He started to move away.

"Wait!"

"Ser?"

"How long have…?"

"It's later morning, ser."

"The day after…?"

"Yes, ser. Apprentice- May- I mean, enchant-" He shook his head in frustration. "I mean, Warden Enchanter Neria; her friends carried you down last night." He stepped back towards me and dropped his voice. "They were worried that you might have been possessed; that's why _they're_ watching you, too." He jerked head to the side; there was a Templar standing there, just watching. "But you didn't show the signs, so they healed you and let you sleep. And Enchanter Neria ask- Warden Enchanter Neria, she asked me to fetch her or Senior Enchanter Wynne when you woke up." He fidgeted in the way preadolescent boys have. "Is there anything else, ser?"

I was naked under the blankets. Kinda clean, too. "Clothes, maybe."

He pointed to the foot of the bed. "Your pack's there, and, if you need anything else, you can use what's in the chest under it." The boy's face fell. "This is Ed- Senior Apprentice Edgar's bunk. They haven't found him."

"I'm sorry."

"You went all the way up the tower, didn't you, ser?"

"Yes."

"Was it bad? They won't let us - the junior apprentices – past the basement entrance, and they're not telling us much."

I've never been one of those people who thinks talking down or telling nice lies to kids is the right way to give them unpleasant info. OTOH, they're not always able to grasp or process the big picture. I gauged my answer with that in mind. "It wasn't as bad as we were afraid it'd be, but, yes, it was bad."

"Do you know if they found Edgar? Or-"

I shook my head. "I heard Neria and Wynne mention some names, but I really don't remember many of them. I'm sorry; you'll have to ask one of them."

The boy's expression went from barely hopeful to sadly understanding. "I see, ser."

"Did the folks in the supply tunnels come out?"

He brightened back up. "Not yet, ser; at least not that I've heard." He looked toward the door. "If there's nothing else…."

I looked around the room. There were a few people resting and/or sleeping on some of the other bunks, but I didn't recognize any of them. "Where are, uh…?"

"Warden Enchanter Neria and Senior Enchanter Wynne are-"

"You don't need to be so formal with me."

"Oh, I have to, ser. If I don't I'll forget to be formal when I need to, and that's not good." He shrugged. "The Enchanters and the rest of your group are…cleaning things up." He leaned in. "Does that mean they're carrying out dead people?"

I nodded. "Probably."

The boy looked grim. "I thought so, ser. Thank you. Shall I fetch one of the enchanters now?"

"Go ahead. Wait!" The boy looked at me expectantly. Maybe impatiently. "I know it doesn't mean much, but…I'm sorry about everything that's happened here."

"That's all right, ser, but thank you." The boy scampered out of the room.

The only one paying attention to me at that point was the Templar. I couldn't tell if it was male or female, but I really didn't care. "Enjoy the show."

I hopped out of bed, put on my glasses, dug into the pack, and found my bike shorts. I slid those on then dug out my jeans and a t-shirt. The shirt hung pretty loosely on me. I pulled the jeans on. They'd already been hanging loosely on me; now they slid down over my hips. I don't have a belt with me, and I didn't want to go digging into Edgar's stuff. I poked around the room for a bit and finally found a curtain tie long enough to do the trick. I found shoes and socks and finished dressing with a contented sigh. It's nice wearing civvies for a change.

Wynne smirked gently when she saw me. She looked tired, although I wasn't expecting otherwise. But she did have that spark in her eye that meant she was ready for anything. "Not what you were wearing in the Fade, but strange nonetheless. " She walked over to me and immediately reached for my head. "How are you feeling?"

"Yeah…. About that…."

Wynne actually had the courtesy to blush slightly, but she didn't bat an eye. She turned my head back and forth while she spoke. "You were unconscious, so we brought you down here, and Neria examined you."

Okay, Wynne's got that detached professionalism you want from a doctor. Healer. Whatever. But- "Gah! Neria?"

Wynne didn't even break stride. "She found some injuries that were beyond her skills to address, so she called me to take care of them. I showed her how to repair such injuries, although I chose not to do anything to the metal in your mouth and foot." She switched from doctor mode to mothering mode. "How did those…injuries happen?"

Great. Neria saw me naked. And who bathed me? Chocolate-melting time again.

"Oh, there's no need to be embarrassed; you were hurt and needed the help, and Neria insisted on taking care of you."

Okay, I understood all that, but Neria saw me naked. I'm not a prude, but….

"How do you feel? Are you well?"

"I feel…fine, I guess." I didn't have the little aches and pains that I'd expected to have after the previous day's workout. I didn't even have the aches and pains that I'd gotten used to dealing with on a daily basis. Even the achy finger (mountain bike crash) wasn't hurting. I still had most of my scars, including a beauty received during a game of chess. If it weren't for those being there the lack of pain along with the weight loss would've made me think I was back in the Fade. "Better than fine; pretty good, actually."

"That's good to hear." She switched modes again. "Since you're up and able we've got work that needs all the hands it can get."

I knew what she meant. It didn't end up being pleasant, but not everything is. After-action recovery is always much less exciting than the action, but it's definitely more important. Still, I'm not going to detail cleaning up bodies or scrubbing away stains, but I went up and down the stairs in the Tower more times than I cared to count.

"Oh, and Jeff? You were right. About how to deal with Uldred. I- I guess I knew him too well to make the decision you did."

I wasn't really that happy to be right. "Thanks. Is everybody okay?"

"The usual. Burns, scrapes, cuts, exhaustion. You and Alistair…well, the two of you are fine now. Alistair only woke up an hour or so before you. You've made an impression on the young man; he's worried about you."

That was surprisingly touching. "Let's go find him and let him know I'm okay."

We headed back into the tower. I also got a quick back-brief on what happened after I went down. Uldred and his allies went down like you'd expected them to. Irving did indeed survive the fight, and was promptly carried downstairs. One of the healers caught up to him later, but while waiting Irving got propped up in a chair just inside the heavy doors. Good thing, because the permission for the Right showed up in the middle of the night. From what I heard Greagoir and company opened the doors just before dawn.

Most of the Templars that survived our attention seem like they'll recover okay. However, there's some bad blood right now between them and us. My outburst was an issue, but it obviously wasn't near as bad as what Uldred and company did to them. But we'd also torn through the enchanted Templars pretty efficiently, although, according to the girl I'd insisted be healed, fighting while possessed did indeed impact their effectiveness. (At least, that's what she said, and I mean that seriously. Then again, I'd probably be talking myself up if I were in the same situation.) A couple of those Templars, however, spoke up for us; Wynne's healing may have smoothed some things over. (The girl, Taryn, somehow remembered me asking to have her healed. She gave me some grudging thanks for that, and for not killing her outright.) Long-term outcome on that is unknown, but doesn't seem good for the mages, although both Greagoir and Irving agreed to release as many as possible to combat the Blight.

The blood mages we captured were taken by the Templars to go the mage prison. (Awnor? Defintely not sure about the spelling on that.) Owain came out of things all right, along with a couple more of the Tranquil mages. The Knight-Lieutenant survived his wounds, but may not wake up.

The storeroom door opened and there was much rejoicing. 17 mages of various skill levels had taken refuge there. Edgar oops – Senior Apprentice Edgar was one of them. That brought the number of surviving mages up over 50, but between the known dead and missing (most probably destroyed abominations) at least a third of the Tower's population was lost.

Damn. That sounds so clinical. But….

Everybody's right. This isn't really my fault, but I'm still going to have a hard time sleeping for a while. And while this verse is throwing curve balls at me I am able to hit some of them back. Niall's alive, so apparently I can change things, at least some of the small ones.

And the thing about my cojones? Guys may not want to read this. Short version: while playing soccer back in the '90s my right testicle got crushed by a poorly aimed kick. My opponent got a red card. I got a trip to the ER and emergency surgery to have the testicle removed. So yeah, imagine my surprise when I woke up to an itchy right nut that was exactly where it belonged instead of sitting in a jar somewhere. Looks like Wynne took care of more than just my knees.

I've written way too many words about what went on here. I've literally been writing all day and now the sun's gone down. But it's been cathartic. I see where I'm (have been?) mistaken about some of my assumptions and the reasoning behind it. I feel better. Not good, but better.

I'm gonna cut this off and start up again in a day or two unless something really crazy happens. We're expecting to hit the road tomorrow but I'm not sure that's gonna happen, at least not until the afternoon. But before we go I've got a couple of ideas that I need to follow through on.

First: I asked the boy who'd been assigned to watch me sleep (sorry, kid, but I don't remember your name right now) about the policy on putting books into the library. He didn't know about any, but asked around for me. Seems the librarian was one of the casualties, and, since most of the books are still on the shelves, that's a low priority for the cleanup crews. With that in mind I'm going to take the safe bet and store the journals I've completed so far on a quiet shelf. If all goes as expected I should be able to retrieve them down the road sometime. If not, well, I'll make sure somebody knows where they're at and…. I don't know. Anyway, I marked the spines with neatly (for me) handwritten titles: _Middle of Nowhere, Volumes I & II._ (_There and Back Again _was already taken; besides, I don't know if getting back is an option.)

I've laid out some basic medical, physical, and engineering concepts as best I can remember them in the back pages. I've also included the gunpowder recipe in both books along with some potential applications.

See you in that special hell.

* * *

><p><em>AN: ME3 SPOILER! Well, I just played the Expanded Edition ending of ME3. My only real gripe is the battlefield pickup, although there were a couple of cheesy moments during the epilogue. But, overall, my take on it is a very positive "Why the fuck didn't Bioware do this in the first place?"_


	31. Up, Down, and Out

**11 Solace (day 24?), evening**

Okay, the date's correct, but I'm not sure about my day count.

Remember that list of stuff I wanted to do? One of those things was to head to the kitchen. There's a mage there, Robin, who turned out to be the head chef. I ran into him when I went to raid the kitchen for some basic supplies (salt, flour, spices, etc.). Fortunately he understood when I explained why we needed the stuff, and he was kind enough to hook us up well enough so the food we have on the road will at least have some flavor. He was even more understanding when I traded the formula for ice cream for what I was taking. (You'd think frost mages would've had that figured out by now.) And he made me a wonderful cup of mint tea while we talked cooking and made a small batch of fresh(!) strawberry ice cream. (He was a little disappointed when I turned down his proposition. I was flattered though.)

Speaking of supplies: we also hit up the Templar supply guy for some new and some replacement gear. We've got a couple more tents; we'll still need to double up in some, but that's better than everybody crowding under a couple of lean-tos. Alistair and I both needed serious repairs for our armor, but he worked out a deal to swap his splint for an unused set of plate.

I, however, caught the Knight-Commander's attention. Never mind that I wasn't wearing my armor. Never mind that I wasn't even wearing my glasses. The Clark Kent disguise thing didn't fool anyone. Of course, Greagoir didn't reach his position by being an idiot, but I was hoping he'd have forgotten about or at least would just overlook me.

Nope. Alistair had just finished up getting the supply guy to agree to the swap when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Two Templars (without helmets but I didn't recognize either one) were standing behind the Knight-Sergeant (also helmetless). "You, ser, will come with me. Knight-Commander's orders."

I immediately ran the numbers in my head. None of the Templars had any swords out. And no helmets. Maybe I could-

Alistair interrupted my thoughts. "I know what you're thinking, and it's a bad idea."

I looked back at my fellow meatshield. "What am I thinking?"

"_Now _you're thinking of going along quietly with them while I go get Neria and Wynne and maybe some other help." He had that grin on his face but his eyes were screaming that his would be a very good idea.

I looked back at the sergeant. "Where are we going?"

"The Knight-Commander wishes to speak with you."

"And then?"

The sergeant looked a little put out. I guess the mages were a lot more acquiescent. "That will be up to the Knight-Commander. Now, come quietly or…." One of his flunkies raised a set of manacles. The other one not-so-subtly put his hand on his sword. The motions were choreographed so well that they must have rehearsed them.

I gave the sergeant my best cheesy grin. "I need to see the Knight-Commander. Think you could walk me to his office?"

Upstairs, a few minutes later, the Knight-Commander wasn't as easily confused. "Stand easy, _Initiate_." He gave me a careful look. "Did you know you bear a remarkable resemblance to an individual seen in Lothering some time ago?"

Crap. Well, I knew where this was going. "I've heard that, ser."

That threw the commander off his game, but he recovered quickly. "And that this individual is believed to be in the company of a Sister who bears a remarkable resemblance to the archer accompanying your party?"

At this point I wasn't in the mood to deal with the circling. I was either going to walk out of that office with no problem or Greagoir was going to arrest me. "I've heard that, too. Your point?"

"So you don't deny you're this individual?"

"Would it help if I did?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Most likely not. The Revered Mother provided an adequate description of both you and Sister Leliana."

Get to the point! "And this is important because…?"

"It's the opinion of the Reverend Mother that you should be taken into custody here in order to determine your status as a possible maleficarum." When I didn't respond he continued. "I shall act on the request of the Mother." I still didn't respond. "Sergeant, take him into custody."

All right, I gotta say I kind of figured this was coming. At least he didn't mention any of the charges that Loren (?- yeah, Loren) brought up. And at least he didn't look disappointed when I said I'd come quietly, although the flunky with the manacles did. I made sure Greagoir noted my state of health before I left his office.

And then it was back down the stairs again, and down another set into the basement. And then around a few corners and into a jail cell that bore a remarkable resemblance to something out of an Ancient West movie. I got some sympathetic looks from some of the mages, but every one of them stared curiously as we passed.

I probably should have been more worried than I was. However, at the moment I wasn't so sure the situation was that bad. I mean, I'd survived the Tower quest. If survival is my long-term goal maybe I was better off being locked up and examined. As long as they didn't threaten to tranquil me I'd be fairly safe and could ride out the Blight in relative comfort.

OTOH, it never hurts to have a backup plan. The knuckleheads who locked me up didn't bother to frisk me. There's a reason I carry a Swiss Army knife with me everywhere; I never know when it'll come in handy. (Then again, I doubt most mages would carry anything like that.) No, I didn't use it to pick the lock; that's a skill I don't have. Instead I used the metal saw to start cutting through the bars. The plan was to sneak out during the night, touch base with the team to let them know what I was doing, and rig up a flotation device to swim to shore.

Either way was simple, right? Too simple, actually. Or maybe not simple enough. Exactly the wrong amount of simple. At least my plans didn't involve rappelling down the Tower or trying to reverse the polarity on my shield or crawling through one of my tubes.

But when Neria showed up she blew my simple out of the water.

"Release him. Now." Her voice was sharp.

"No," Greagoir answered simply.

"The Chantry has no authority over Grey Wardens or those in our employ. Right, Alistair?"

"That's right…." Alistair looked very uncomfortable.

"But those in your employ are still subject to both the Crown's and the Chantry's laws if they broke those laws before coming under your employ. And your man here was already in Chantry custody."

"And why was he in your custody?"

"He is suspected of being maleficarum."

That got me a look from both Neria and Alistair.

I shrugged from where I was sitting in the cell. "The dreams I have. I keep ending up in the Fade. Remember when I told you about Niall?"

Neria looked back at Gregor. "And that's it?" she snorted.

"That is it. But the Revered Mother of Lothering saw fit to remand him to our custody until su-"

"Never mind," Neria said. Then she continued with those three words that I really did not want to hear. "Right of Conscription," she said quietly.

Greagoir did a double-take. "I don't think-"

A tiny smile flitted across her lips. "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription for Jeffrey."

Wait, what? "Uh, that's not really necessary," I said.

"Neria," Alistair added, "are you sure this is a good idea?"

Greagoir was turning red. "Sol-"

"Who?" Neria asked. There was a sharp edge to her voice.

Greagoir's mouth was pinched tight for a few seconds. "Warden," he finally said, "this man is a…." He trailed off, probably because he wasn't sure exactly what my status was. "A person of interest to the Chantry," he finally finished.

The tiny smile turned into a smirk. It wasn't very pleasant to see on Neria. "I don't think that matters any more. But the Right of Conscription does."

Alistair reached for Neria's arm. "Could I speak to you for a moment? Privately?" He didn't give her a chance to answer, but instead pulled her away from Greagoir and the sergeant. Alistair leaned over and whispered urgently to Neria.

"I know, but-" She dropped back into a whisper when Alistair shushed her.

The two of them held a short conversation during which Alistair seemed heated and Neria determined. About halfway through Alistair rubbed his eyes and looked up to me. "Jeff, you're not really worried about being in there, are you?"

"No. Not at all." At least not until Neria'd started with the Conscription thing.

He turned back to the mage. "See?" And his voice dropped again. And eventually rose again for me to hear him say, "…probably a bad idea."

Neria turned towards me as she answered. "…trust me. Please, Alistair." She looked at me and gave me a grim smile. "You trust me, don't you, Jeffrey?"

At the moment I was tempted to say 'No' but didn't want to wreck whatever roll she was on. "Sure. Why not?"

The grim smile relaxed a bit, and Neria turned back to Greagoir. "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription."

I thought the Templar was going to stroke out, but he finally, angrily, turned towards the sergeant. "Let him out," he growled. "But," Greagoir said to Neria, "I want him off the island immediately." He turned and stomped out of the cell block.

The sergeant opened the cage door and escorted me and the Wardens to the main floor. I decided not to tell him about the bar I'd already cut through. But he kept going straight when the Wardens took me into the apprentice quarters to grab my gear.

"Leliana," I said when the guy was probably out of earshot. "We'll need to-"

"Greagoir already kicked her out," Alistair said.

"And he can't find Morrigan," Neria added. She sounded happy about that.

"That's a shame," Alistair said. He didn't back down under the glare Neria gave him.

"Where's her stuff?" I asked. "I should take it with me."

"Sten's got it; he left with Leliana." Understandable; the Qunari wasn't happy about being around so many mages.

We headed to the exit. Greagoir was nowhere in sight and the Templars, although they tried to intimidate us, let us pass with no problem. Back outside, through the kill zones, and down to the boat landing, eventually across the water, and to the little tavern on the lake shore. I walked inside and right up to the table Sten and Leliana were sitting at. "Hi," I said, "come here often?"

Leliana gave me a smile. "The Templars released you?"

"Clearly," Sten said.

"Not exactly," I answered, and told them what Neria had done.

Leliana's eyes opened wide. "She what?"

Sten was his usual stoic self. "I am not familiar with this Right."

"Right of Conscription. It's a 'Get out of-' It allows the Wardens to recruit anyone they want regardless of what they may have done." I sighed. "This means I'm supposed to become a Grey Warden somewhere down the line."

"That is a somewhat extreme measure for her to take, is it not?"

"I think so!" I shook my head. "But…. But Neria said to trust her; she's up to something. I just hope it doesn't blow up in anybody's face."

Leliana looked worried. "But what about Alistair? What did he say?"

"He didn't look too happy about it. He actually argued with Neria a bit."

"Can they even induct you?"

"Well, there's a ritual involved, and I'd have to drink a potion of some sort, but I don't know the details. I don't know if they know the details; I mean, they're the only two Wardens left in the country and Neria's brand new."

Sten spoke up. "I would think Alistair should know these 'details,' as you put it. But I am of the impression that he is not privileged of many of the Wardens' secrets."

Sten had a point. How much does Alistair know about prepping for the Joining? IIRC he prepped the drink for Neria and the others, but did he add the Archdemon blood or did Duncan? Does he even know about the need for Archdemon blood? Anyway…

Sten continued. "But it is useless to speculate on such things without more information." Then his eyes narrowed. "You did not tell me you are boss seraboss."

"I'm not."

"The Templar arishock believes you are. I do not think he would do so without good reason."

"He can believe what he wants; that doesn't make it so. Look, you know I'm having these crazy dreams. That's all that's happening."

"That is true, Sten. Even the Revered Mother did not think Jeffrey is a mage. And Ser Bryant was certain of it as well.

"This may be true. But is not magic done by those with a connection to the Fade?"

Leliana and I looked at each other. She shrugged. "I guess," I finally answered. "I don't really know."

"It is my understanding that it is. And you admit you have an unusual connection to the Fade?"

"Well. Yes."

"Then, even if you do not believe it to be so, you are potentially boss seraboss. You may not be able perform to magic like the Warden or the witch, but you have an unknown…potential-" He nodded. "-that may yet prove to be dangerous."

"Oookay."

"Even if you do not consider yourself to be seraboss I would recommend you explore this potential carefully. If at all." He drained the mug sitting in front him, stood up, and left the building.

Leliana watched him leave then turned to me. "What about Alistair and Neria? And Morrigan?"

"They said Greagoir gave them until tonight to leave. And nobody's seen Morrigan. Today, at least. But I'm pretty sure she can take care of herself."

"Well, she is a sneaky witch. Sneakier than I, at times. I am sure." But then she leaned forward and whispered. "Do you suppose this is because of what we did?"

* * *

><p>Let's pause the conversation here. Remember those things I'd planned to do?<p>

The afternoon after I woke up I approached Leliana with a request. "Leliana, do you trust me?"

"Certainly."

"So if I asked you to help me do something of questionable legality and morality would you do it?"

"That depends…."

"Nobody will get hurt, and it might save a life. Might."

"In that case, I would be delighted to help. But what is the something you wish done?"

"I need to…breakintotheFirstEnchanter'soffice."

"Jeffrey!"

"I'm after two books and nothing else. One I could probably get myself, but the other's locked in a trunk."

"And you need me to open the lock. Hmm. What do I get out of this?"

"I have no idea right now. I'll have to owe you a favor. A big one."

"Oh, it will be a big one, but very well."

The mission went smoothly that evening. (Too smoothly for Leliana; I think she was hoping for a little more excitement.) I snagged _Connection in the Fade_, _Eluvians of Elvish Lore_, and what I assume is Flemeth's black grimoire.

The grimoire was in the trunk and is quite probably what Morrigan was running all over looking for yesterday._ Eluvians_ was also in there as a bonus find; I don't know if it'll do me any good, but maybe it can help get me home. I'd seen _Connection_ on the shelf during the Tower crawl and hoped it would enlighten me regarding my regular Fade visits. I'd shoved all three books deep into my pack and, apparently, successfully smuggled them out of the Tower.

* * *

><p>Now back to the current conversation. I leaned in towards Leliana. "I don't think so. Irving probably hasn't even noticed they're missing. No, I'm betting Greagoir got a message from Denerim about us and we just happened to be here when he opened it."<p>

Leliana leaned back and looked (a little) relieved. "That would make sense. He asked me questions about the interview you had with the Revered Mother." Then she smiled innocently. "And then he reminded the lay sister of her duty to the Chantry, and told me to beg forgiveness from the Mother in the little Chantry by the shore, and warned me about falling prey to the machinations of maleficarem."

I had to smile at that myself.

"And then, because he believed me an innocent, sent me from the Tower."

"Oh, and you left me to take the fall on my own?" I couldn't say it with a straight face, though.

"Yes, but, I was planning a way to secure your freedom." She shrugged. "I did not think Neria would take the steps she did. I hope you are right and it does not…'blow up in our face' was how you put it?"

I nodded.

"Well, then, there is nothing to do now but wait for our companions to return to us."

I agreed, then grumbled and dug into my gear. I still hadn't had a chance to make any real repairs to my equipment, so now was the time. Remember what I said about recovery? Well, when you've got down time you pull maintenance, and I had a lot to pull. Leliana made some sympathetic noises and bought me some food, but I wasn't up for much talking. Swearing; well, there was plenty of that.

But as I pulled my gear out I found one of the books I'd smuggled out. "Here," I said and handed _Connection_ to Leliana.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Yep. Although I think you might find it interesting." I'd taken some time last night to glance at it.

She gave me a puzzled look, but took the book anyway. I started working on my gear; Leliana settled in to read. A few minutes later I heard her giggle. "I take it this was not what you were hoping to find?"

"Well, I didn't go much further than that." I went back to work. "Let me know if you find anything useful."

Sometime later I heard Leliana take a sharp breath and say, "Oh, my!" I looked up at her and caught her eye, and she blushed. _She_ blushed. "You were right. This _is_ interesting."

I'd been hoping _Connection _would prove to be useful. It hasn't; at least not in the way I was expecting. What is it with mages and romance novels?

* * *

><p>"My sword," Sten said simply.<p>

"What about it?" I asked without looking up.

"I encountered a scavenging basra in the village. He has…collected items of Qunari origin. When I confronted him with this information he claimed to have purchased scavenging rights from an individual named Farin."

I swore at yet another recalcitrant chain link.

Leliana looked up from _Connection_. "I think Jeffrey's a little distracted right now. But his swearing is very creative. It's almost as educational as this." She nodded at the book.

"He may be distracted, yet he has shown the ability to multi-task."

I snapped my head up. "Where the hell did you learn- Never mind. What's going on?"

"Farin has a stall at the Orzammar Market. Is Orzammar not one our destinations?"

"Yes. Yes, it is."

"Is it the next one?"

"That I don't know." I looked to Leliana.

"I do not know, either."

"Why do you not know?"

"Why should I?"

"You are assuming a leadership role among our group. I would think you have a part to play in such a decision."

Leliana and I exchanged a look. I turned back to Sten. "I just give our collective ass a kick when we need to get it moving. Neria's still in charge."

Sten actually scowled at that. Well, scowled more. "You should embrace your role rather than deny it. No matter. I will discuss this further with the Wardens when they rejoin us."

He moved to a separate corner of the tavern. Leliana went back to the book. I went back to armor repair. Then the link jumped away from me again and I decided this entry was a more rewarding pursuit. See you tomorrow.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know there's some folks out there waiting patiently to see Zevran make his appearance. All I can say to that is please be patient a bit longer, and you will be rewarded._

_BTW, there's a loyal reader out there in Mongolia! It's good to have you aboard; say 'Hi' in the reviews or via private message!_


	32. Q&A Sessions

**12 Solace (day 25), mid-morning**

Still no sign of the Wardens or Morrigan. Here's hoping nobody's in trouble, although I still think Morrigan can take good care of herself.

**Noon**

All righty. Alistair and Neria (and Cullen [the nice dog, not the apparently love-stricken Templar]) are back with us. And, not surprisingly (to me at least), Wynne is with them. We're grabbing some lunch, then hitting the road.

Wynne's presence was a surprise to Sten and Leliana. She explained herself thusly: "There is simply too much at stake for me not to accompany you. I'll be glad to help any way I can."

When Wynne was out of earshot Neria said, "Greagoir and Irving want her to keep an eye us. And Irving thinks we do need the help. Greagoir wants her to make sure we don't break any Chantry rules." She did look thoughtful for a second. "It will be nice to have another healer, and maybe she can help me teach Morrigan." She looked around the small room. "Where is Morrigan?"

We shrugged.

Neria shrugged back. "She can take care of herself. So, what's the plan?"

We all turned our attention back to the map Alistair had spread out. It was fairly detailed and, ominously, had black streaks drawn on it from Ostagar up to Lothering and into central Ferelden. That was the darkspawn Horde breaking into central Fereldan. There was a set of crisp arrows leading from Lothering back towards Denerim; that marked the route of Loghain's retreat. The last word the Templars had received from Denerim was that the bulk of Loghain's army was safe, had been broken up, and its components returned to their Arls.

That didn't make sense. Even if Denerim was relatively safe why would Loghain break up his army rather than deal with the Horde in force? He'd apparently just pulled off a successful fighting retreat (which is difficult enough to do with a modern army) so why not stop and consolidate, get some reinforcements, and go after the dispersed Horde? And why did the Horde disperse rather than stay in a solid mass?

We're hitting the road. Finally. I'll finish this up later.

**Evening**

Morrigan rejoined us about a half hour after we left the Tower's village. She reclaimed her pack from Sten without any words, half-heartedly accepted a hug from Neria, and gave Wynne a challenging stare. I resisted the urge to ask whether she'd had a nice flight.

Back to the map:

"So it's settled: we're going to Orzammar," Neria finally said. "It should take us, what, a week? Any objections?" She rubbed her face hard; she looked pretty tired.

Alistair didn't look too thrilled; I think he was hoping to go to Redcliffe. "As long as we don't end up in the Deep Roads," he said. "They're not very nice this time of year."

"I think you just jinxed us," I replied. "And when are the Deep Roads nice?"

"Oh, in the spring, definitely. That's when the mushrooms bloom and the dwarven ladies in low cut dresses bring you…." He trailed off at Wynne's glare.

"Perhaps we should prepare to leave," the older mage said.

My brain was itching. "Actually, I have some questions, but, they're about Ostagar, if you don't mind."

Wynne and the Wardens all looked grim, but Alistair nodded.

I flipped the large map over. "Could one of you sketch out the battlefield? I just want to get an idea of what happened."

Wynne nodded, and with some input from Alistair, made me a nice, if rough, drawing of the fortress and the battlefield. With some prompting they added the lines Cailen and Loghain deployed on.

"So you had to light a signal here-" I pointed at the tower "-so Loghain would know when to move. What about this area? Couldn't he have used a runner?"

Wynne shook her head. "There were steep cliffs there on both sides. Runners couldn't have made it."

"And even if they could it was quicker- Well, supposed to be quicker for us to run to the Tower."

I dropped some coins on the map and sorted out some silver ones. "So Cailen was lined up here-" I laid out a couple rows of coins. "-and Loghain was here." I laid out some more coins.

Alistair got what I was doing. "Yes, but Loghain's army was bigger." He added a few more coins to the map.

"What about the darkspawn army?"

"Well, from what I saw…." Alistair and Wynne laid out a bunch of copper coins; there were a few more than all the silver coins combined.

"But they came at Cailen like this, right?" I moved the coins towards Cailen's lines then plucked a few up. "Archers, artillery, mages; they killed a lot, right?"

"Yes-" Alistair started.

"No," Wynne said at the same time. She reached for some coins and added a couple back. "The archers only loosed a couple of volleys, and although we helped, the Horde never got close enough for us to be very useful." She slid the copper coins back from the line of silver.

"But I thought the plan was for Cailen to lure the darkspawn towards his lines." I slid the copper coins into a chokepoint drawn on the map. "Then Loghain would…." I slid his coins around behind the Horde's.

"I thought so as well," Wynne said. "But before the Horde got here-" She pointed at the chokepoint. "-Cailen's line charged and met them here." She pushed coins around until the silver was semi-surrounded by copper.

Alistair looked grim. "That's what I remember seeing. A grand melee about right there. Neria?"

She'd been quiet all this time but answered quickly. "I just remember looking down and seeing a mass of bodies. Like…rice bubbling in a soup." She gave us a helpless look. "I'm sorry."

I sighed. Heavily. "And Loghain was supposed hit the Horde from behind, but instead-"

"Instead the bastard quit the field!" Alistair was actually snarling.

Wynne put a hand on his shoulder but looked to me. "Jeff, why did you want to know all this?"

I sighed very heavily. "I'm trying to figure out what happened. I'd heard different stories…."

"I believe we all think it's obvious what happened. Now, if you don't have any more questions…." Her look said I'd better not have any more. She scooped up the coins and handed them back to me.

Sten caught my eye as we started packing and addressed me quietly. Very quietly. "Despite his actions since the battle, it appears this Teryn Loghain acted prudently at Ostagar."

"I think so, too, but Wynne and Alistair don't want to hear that. As far as they're concerned Loghain walked away and left them and the king for dead for his own selfish reasons."

"A lesson of the Qun applies to this. 'Knowing one has good cause for his actions will not make others approve of those actions.'"

Hmm. After taking an objective look it seems Loghain's original plan appeared sound, but Cailen, apparently, was a tactical twit. He'd charged from a short defensive line to meet the darkspawn in a glorious battle rather than sit back and win a fight of attrition. The charge might have worked, though, if Alistair and Neria had lit the beacon fire on time. The Horde would have been caught between the armies and ground down, although casualties would have been much higher than necessary. But by the time the beacon was lit Cailen's army was too far gone to be effective and Loghain would have been knowingly walking into a meat grinder. He might have been able to pull out a win, but the retreat was a better tactical and strategic decision.

But damn: just turning and walking away from all those people? It's one thing to do it with coins on a map. Cold calculus indeed.

**13 Solace (day 26), noon**

Wynne approached me while we're stopped for lunch. "Don't you think you're a bit old for her?" she asked quietly.

Huh? "A bit old for who?"

"For Leliana. Don't give me that look; I've seen you staring at her."

Oh, no, she's not giving _me_ that talk. "First, I have an honest and healthy appreciation for the aesthetics of the female form."

"Is that what it's called nowadays?"

"Second, Leliana and I can handle whatever relationship we have on our own. But if you feel the need to get involved why don't you talk to Alistair about Neria?"

"There is no need to be so sharp."

I just looked at her until she gave a small "Hmmph!" and turned away. But she did have a point: I do keep looking at Leliana's ass. What can I say? It's a nice one. Gotta go.

**evening**

Nothing out of the ordinary until we stopped (except for me spending more time walking beside or in front of Leliana). I had a fire laid but not started and wanted some help. (I can make a fire from scratch; did it once just to unlock the achievement, but what a chore. [I knew I should have kept a starter bar in the Outback. {Poor thing; I wonder how it's doing.}]) Wynne "doesn't do fire" and Morrigan was having an animated 'discussion' with Leliana so I headed for Neria, who was having a calmer discussion with Alistair. But they didn't notice me as I approached.

"…fine with it," Neria finished calmly.

"That doesn't matter; that's not something you should take lightly." Alistair was a bit agitated, but managed to keep his voice down.

"Duncan seemed to take it pretty lightly-"

I did a quick 180 but needed a few more seconds to get out of earshot.

"Duncan thought you'd make a good recruit."

"Duncan didn't recruit me; he stole me!"

"If he hadn't you be in Awnor!"

Neria said something but I couldn't and didn't want to catch it. I decided it was safer to break up the verbal cat fight.

Supper was cold and tense. Wynne, Sten and I ate silently and watched Alistair and Neria (helped by Cullen) glare at each other. When the Wardens took a break we switched to watching Leliana and Morrigan glare at each other. Then when those two took a break Neria crawled into her tent, so Alistair started glaring at me. I have no idea what I'd done, so I excused myself to write this and crash out.

**14 Solace (day 27), early then late morning**

Second guard shift last night. Normally no problem, but a thunderstorm rolled in. I love thunderstorms. We don't get enough of them in AZ, but when they do roll in Let me back up.

Alistair showed up a few minutes after I'd just dozed off and woke me up as he crawled into the tent. I grumbled at him, but wasn't really mad. Just confused, and I'd be asleep again soon anyway.

But Alistair felt the need to talk. "I'm not mad at you, you know."

"Coulda fooled me."

"I'm mad at Neria over this whole Conscription thing with you. Did you know she invoked the Right just to get you out of that dungeon and then said, 'Oops, never mind?'"

"That's kinda what I figured she was going to do."

"I'm not mad at- Well, I wouldn't be mad at her for wanting to recruit you. You're a strange fellow, but I think you'd make a fine Grey Warden. Uhm, no offense intended with that."

"Absolutely none taken."

"But if she's going to recruit someone she needs to be serious about it. Not use it as a…."

"'Get Out of Jail Free' card?"

"If that means what I think it means, then yes. But, Maker, she just doesn't seem to understand the…the…responsibilities…and the honor of being a Grey Warden. Granted, she hadn't even been the order for a day before all this started happening." His voice turned a bit distant. "You know, maybe that's part of the problem: she's only experienced the bad parts of being a Grey Warden, not the good ones.

"But then she told me she never wanted to be a Warden, and wished she'd never met Duncan, and wished she'd never helped Jowan, whoever that is, and that she'd just got to stay in the Tower and not have to worry about the outside world. And when I told her she'd probably be dead right now…. Well, that was another spectacular instance of me putting my foot in my mouth."

"Alistair, you're a good guy, but sometimes you're pretty dense."

"What?"

I started to give him a long answer but changed my mind before I even opened my mouth. "Neria's gone through a rough couple of days. The last thing she needs is you – or any of us – telling her how she should feel." I heard him start to ask a question but cut him off. "Think about that and then go apologize to her tomorrow. Now be quiet; I'm trying to get some sleep."

Alistair grumbled back at me but relented, and I managed to get back to sleep until Leliana woke me up for guard duty. First couple of hours were quiet, but the wind shifted and started blowing hard. With the clouds rolling in it was getting tough to see, but I moved around the camp to make sure nothing would blow away or that any of the tents were in immediate danger of falling over. I grabbed my heavy coat while checking the tent I shared with Alistair; it's waterproof enough that it'll keep me mostly dry. (He mumbled when I came in but apparently went right back to sleep; that's a good skill for a soldier.) Sten was safe, as were Leliana and Wynne, but Neria- Well, she was standing outside her tent; the lightning flashes lit her up. She was just standing there watching the storm roll in.

"Hey, you all right?"

"I'm fine. Cullen was keeping me up-" I could hear the Mabari snoring over the wind. "-and then I heard the storm coming." A flash lit her up; she was staring at the clouds. The very brief glimpse I got of her face didn't reveal much. "This isn't my first lightning storm. Well, it's my first outside the Tower; sometimes I watched them through the windows when I was still there. At Ostagar there was a storm during the battle, but I didn't get to see it. I was too busy. So I guess this is the first storm that matters. I like it; it makes me feel small. Do you like lightning storms?"

"Here." A flash revealed Neria hugging herself. Her sleep shirt couldn't be keeping her warm enough, so I put my coat over her shoulders. "My home's- was in the desert. We don't get spring or fall; we go from winter into summer and right back. And during the summer the air is hot and dry enough to suck the water out of your mouth and the sky is such a bright blue you can fry your eyeballs just by going outside. But 15 minutes later there's heavy gray and black clouds building up over the mountains or maybe rolling across the valley. The wind shifts and instead of hot dirt you suddenly get that sharp metal smell of water and a cool breeze. And then you can hear the thunder miles away, and watch the lightning crash down or just crawl across the sky. And when the rain hits it hits hard and cold and loud. It's…primal. Yeah, I like thunderstorms."

We stood there in silence for a few minutes just feeling the storm close in. Alistair broke the spell. "Jeff, are you all right out there?"

"I'm good. Try to sleep. I'll yell if I need help."

"If you're sure…."

"I am."

Raindrops started smacking into the ground and the tents. "Here, come sit with me until the rain passes."

"You're not scared are you?"

The mage hit me on the arm. "Ow!" Hah! I was wearing my armor. "No! Just come in out of the rain."

I thought about it for a moment. The rain would be too heavy and with no light I wouldn't be able to see anything approach the camp. At least Neria could sense darkspawn. "All right, but I've got to keep watch best I can."

"Come on!" Lightning gave me a good view of Neria's bum through her shirt as she crawled into her tent. I shrugged to myself and crawled in just far enough to get out of the rain and made myself as comfortable as I could. I heard a soft growl and froze.

"Hush, Cullen! It's Jeffrey! And you like him!"

Cullen groaned and shifted, but didn't complain any more. A small light suddenly flared in the tent; Neria was holding a small flame in her right hand. Her left was holding a metal cup over the flame. "Tea," she said as I twisted to look at her.

"Clever." Almost as good as a microwave. Certainly a lot more portable.

The light faded. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Ugh. Still almost but not quite entirely unlike tea (the tea that I'm used to, at least), but it was warm and strong. But I also had a question. "So why'd you name him Cullen?"

I heard Neria groan as she shifted around to sit next to me. "Because of that stupid Templar. He was always following me around looking at me like Cullen does." She sounded a little bitter. "You know, I thought it was cute in a strange way, but…."

_Flash. Beat. Beat. Boom._

"That was a good one!"

"They'll get better when they get closer." And that's when I remembered I was wearing a lightning rod. Well, just the chain shirt, but you know. "Uhm, will it bother you if I take off my armor?"

"Why?" To her credit (and mine, I guess) Neria didn't sound at all offended or suspicious.

"Lightning. Metal. Self-preservation. You know: all the normal reasons."

"Oh. Oh, I see." It took a few minutes but I wriggled out of the mail. "Feel safer now?"

"Much. Where's that tea?"

"Here you go."

"So anyway, but what? About Cullen. The Templar."

Neria sighed. "He'd follow me around, and stare at me. Some of the other girls said he was sweet on me, but…." She sighed for a moment. "But he was just like all the rest of the Templars. He wouldn't have hesitated to kill every one of us if he thought he had to."

I didn't have anything to say to that.

"I was used to having the Templars around. They were kind of just…there. Part of the background. They never really bothered me, even though I knew what they were there for, but it wasn't really…real. Oh, there were some nasty ones, like Sumner-"

"Was that the guy I hit?"

"That was him. A lot of us wanted to do what you did."

"Well, I'm not proud of it."

"Don't worry about it. He would have gladly gutted every one of us and watched us die slowly. He said he hated us that much."

I didn't have anything to say to that either, and Neria didn't have anything to add. So we sat in silence, watching the storm and sharing the tea. When it was gone we set the cup out in the rain to refill and Neria brewed another cup.

_Flash. Beat. BOOM._

Neria twitched. "I never said 'thank you', did I?"

I finished my hit of the tea. "For what?"

"For coming into the Tower. You didn't have to. None of you did."

I had a lot of answers run through my head, but decided to stick with the simplest one. "Well, you're welcome."

Neria reached an arm around me and gave me a sidehug. "Thank you," she said as she leaned her head on my shoulder.

"You're welcome."

_Flash. BOOM!_

I felt Neria flinch again, then she snorted quietly. "Getting closer."

"Tea?"

"Please."

I handed her the cup and we were quiet again. The rain was hard and steady and thrummed against the tent. I could have stuck it out under a tree, but Neria had had the right idea. But, Neria, and ideas, started bouncing around in my head, so I broke the silence this time. "In the Tower, the Knight-Lieutenant; you shouldn't have tried to leave Wynne behind."

"I know."

"You do?"

"I could feel you disapproving. I thought you were going to say something, but then you started messing with your helmet, and I knew you'd done that to give us both some time." She reached around and gave me another hug. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome. Again."

We sat quietly again. At least until_ hiss-flash-crack-BANG!_

"Maker!" Neria jumped as she swore.

"Jeff?" Wynne called. "Are you well?"

"It's all right!" I called out. "Just a warning shot!" I reached for Neria. "I need my coat; I'm gonna check on Morrigan."

I had no doubts the witch was fine, but there was always that tiny chance that something might have happened to her. I picked my way towards the brush she'd hidden her tent in but only made it mostly there.

"I am well, but my thanks for your concern." Morrigan's tone was less thankful than annoyed.

"Just had to check. Yell if you need anything."

"I shall." I could hear her eyes rolling.

I made my way back to Neria's tent. I managed to not get too much water inside.

"Warning shot?"

I put my coat back over her. "Legends about the gods. One of them throws a hammer that makes lightning bolts; the thunder is the hammer flying back to his hand. If you annoy him he lets you know."

"That's an interesting god. What happens if he gets mad at you?"

_Flash. Boom!_

"There you go."

"Hmm. Does this god have a name?"

"Thor. And making the obvious joke annoys both him and me greatly."

"Oh." Bit of disappointment there.

"Where's that tea?"

Neria warmed the stuff back up and we sipped for a few minutes while listening to the rain and wind and lightning and thunder.

"Do you miss the desert?"

"Nope."

"But what about your family?"

"Oh, I miss the people there, but I don't like the desert. I like places that are green. Ferelden's nice as far as that goes."

"I'm glad you approve, but you may not like it when it gets colder."

"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see."

Silence again, except for the weather. _Flash. Beat. Boom._

"More tea?"

"Thanks, but I'm good." It was time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. "How are you doing?" I asked quietly.

"I…don't understand."

"How are you feeling?"

"A little chilly, and a little awed."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know."

"Then can I ask you a question? About the Tower. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"I suppose."

"When we got to the Tower why did Greagoir call you Solona?"

Neria was quiet for a moment then I heard her choke. At the sound Cullen squirmed over and repositioned himself in the small of her back.

"You okay?"

It took a few seconds for her answer. "Yes, but- I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was tight, like she was keeping herself from crying.

"I'm here if you do. Not just right now, but any time."

She didn't answer, but instead leaned into my shoulder. Another rumble of thunder came from behind us and the rain kept coming down. I put an arm around Neria and sat there with her quietly. I didn't have anything to say; I didn't know what to say, but if Neria needs someone to talk to I'll be there if she wants me and I'll do my best. But at the moment she just needed someone to sit with her for a while.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Normally I like to have the following chapter finished before I publish the one that's already done. However, I've had a bad case of writer's block and have been struggling just to get the occasional line of dialogue out. And I know everybody out there is waiting patiently, so I went ahead and decided to publish this chapter. But that means it's time to grind out a couple more chapters. Wish me luck…._

_Tips for alleviating writer's block:_

_1) Write a drabble for your fic. You've already seen a couple of mine._

_2) Write a drabble for someone else's fic._

_3) Delete nothing! You never know what you'll be able to shoehorn in or wish you didn't have to completely rewrite._

_4) Write a chunk of your fic that happens a long way down the road. For example **(SPOILER!):** Morrigan's nude scene. (Tastefully done, _and _plot relevant.)_

_Tips for not alleviating writer's block:_

_1) Play _World of Tanks_ until your eyes bleed and your mouse breaks. Although I do love my T82 with the 105mm derp gun._

_2) Have an Amazon shipment arrive with a copy of _Redshirts_._

_3) Have your work hours change from day to day but your sleep schedule remain stubbornly the same._

_4) Listen to _Funkytown_ over and over._

_All right. Enough of the angst; time to pick up the action again. Both IRL and in-story._


	33. Rouge Angle of Satin

**Noon**

"Change of plans." Neria announced. "Everybody, I'd like you to meet Levi. Levi, this is…." She went around, making introductions.

Ah, yes. The guy in camp with the exclamation point and credit card reader. I nodded at him when Neria came around to me.

Sten gave us a surprise when Neria explained the new mission. Instead of heading to Orzammar we were going to make a detour to Soldier's Peak, take care of things there, then head west again. I'd thought Sten would object when he spoke. "Warden, I believe this is a prudent decision. Your order's old fortress may contain resources that will help us combat the Blight and confront the Archdemon."

That earned Sten looks from everybody. He'd made no secret of his desire to reach Orzammar as quickly as possible, ostensibly to recruit the dwarves, but also to recover his sword. He'd been gifted with a fine two-handed sword someone found in an out-of-the-way corner of the mage tower. "A fine weapon," he'd said. "However, the one purchased will suffice until I recover Asala."

Is he up to something not hinted at, or am I just being overly suspicious? Oh, well. We're heading out in a few.

**Evening**

"This," I said, "is a galactically stupid idea."

"Oh, come on," Alistair replied, "you need to learn how to do this."

"Oh, I agree. It's just that this is a still a galactically stupid idea."

"Besides, Wynne is right there, so if anything-"

"That's reassuring."

"Well, if you don't want me here…."

"No, no, no, no! I do, I do."

"So you saw what I did. Now grip it the way I told you…. Now get the angle- No steeper. Good. Use a _light_ touch."

"Sonofabitch!"

"I said a light touch!"

"That appears to be painful."

"Your powers of observation know no bounds. Thank you, Wynne."

"Oh, you're welcome."

"All right, try again."

"Remember what I said about this being galactically stupid?"

"What does 'galactically' mean anyway?"

"_Scheisse!_"

"Don't force it. Let the blade do the work."

"Bite me."

"Oh, this is interesting. A fool teaching the ignorant. You are braver than I realized."

"If you don't have anything useful to say…. Arck!"

"You know, if you keep talking you'll just end up hurting yourself."

"I'll take care of you later. Ow!"

"What was that?"

"I believe he said-"

"Nothing! Gah!"

"Now that does appear to be painful."

"Thanks again."

"Certainly, but you are taxing me sorely. Please be more careful."

"I'm trying."

"What are you do-"

"Don't startle him!"

"Gorram it!"

"Oh, you poor thing!"

"Careful there."

"Alistair, is this really necessary?"

"He said he wants to learn-"

"Oooh!"

"Wynne, Neria…? Little help."

"Just a couple more strokes."

"Nicely done."

"There. Satisfied?"

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It is…different."

"I think you look nice."

"You know what? The lovely ladies who kept me from bleeding to death: you two have my most sincere thanks. The rest of you: fuck all y'all."

And you know what? If I make it through this the first thing I'm inventing is the safety razor.

Oh, and praise the deity of your choice for magical healing.

**16 Solace (day 29), late afternoon**

Praise the deity of your choice for magical healing.

We watched the woman run back towards the bend in the road. "Hurry!" she called.

Sten snorted. "We have been waylaid and must defend ourselves." I didn't know the big guy had a sense of humor.

"It's a trap," I added as I grabbed Neria's arm. She'd actually been starting to run after the woman.

"And a very poor one." Leliana pointed to a tree near the curve of the road. "That tree is probably rigged to fall. It will be easy to avoid, but we'd have to take care to not be separated."

"Well, should we just stand here, or should we go ahead and trigger this cunning ambush?" Sarcasm dripped from Morrigan's voice.

Alistair was retrieving his shield from his backpack. "Maybe we should just wait here and have a quick bite to eat. You know, so we don't get hungry. I hate stopping a fight just because I want a snack."

I'd readied my crossbow and Leliana strung her bow. "Why not turn the tables?" I asked. "I take…Leliana and Morrigan…that way-" I pointed to our ten o'clock. "-and hit them from behind while the rest of you kick'em in the teeth." I remembered this fight pretty clearly from the game, and it wasn't an easy one. But flanking those archers was really tempting.

"A sound maneuver, but still dangerous for those who assault the front."

"Count to one hundred, then move in. Or when you hear a fight start. Or something explodes."

"You'll need me for that," Neria said. "Levi, you might want to head back up the road a way."

"Come on, then."

The four of us took off at a jog with Cullen falling in behind. Standard doctrine for reacting to an ambush is to get out of the kill zone ASAP, and, if possible, assault the ambushers from an unexpected direction. My team was going to do the second; Alistair, Sten, and Wynne were going to walk right into the meat grinder. It was our job to take the teeth out and give them a solid chance of surviving.

My count hit 30 when I stopped my group and told them to hold still. I made a right turn and, as quietly as I could in chain armor, made my up a short but steep hill and ever so carefully peeked over the hump. There were about a dozen archers split evenly between a group directly in front of me and the rest on the other side of the road. A probable mage; make that a second probable mage if the woman was one also. And next to the woman was a short, blonde individual that had to be Zevran.

I ducked back below the hill and waved the group up; my count was about 60, so I gave very quick instructions.

"Archers right there," I whispered, "and more across the road. About 50 yards. Leliana and I will take care of those; Neria, Morrigan, you get the archers right here. But Leliana, there's a probable mage across the road; hit him as soon as you can. Everybody good? Let's go!"

I'd lost my count but knew we didn't have much time, so we moved up to the ridge. I learned one advantage a crossbow has over a longbow: it can be fired from the kneeling position. 50 yards was a tricky shot, but I lined up my target, let out a breath, squeezed the trigger….

The _snap_ was the cue for the ladies to do their thing. I didn't see if my shot hit the target; I hunched over to cock the bow. Leliana loosed her own arrow and the mages (Neria at least) did cause an explosion. Leliana cursed; either at the fireball or at the arrows being shot back at her. Shouts came from below us; I think I heard Alistair, but I certainly didn't see him. I was lining up another shot and fired at an archer who'd spotted us; I'm pretty sure I hit him, but his return shot was too close.

"Cullen, get him!" Neria shouted.

A figure appeared on the ridge right in front of me, but disappeared when the Mabari knocked him backwards. The dog followed the ambusher as Morrigan let out an unnerving laugh. I finally got a third bolt loaded and checked for targets. The archers across the road had retreated into cover; there were a couple of bodies down that I could see, and I saw at least one figure running away. I looked over the ridge at the bad guys directly below us. They were all down. Three had been fireballed, two more were, well, looking pretty dead, and Cullen was still chewing on the last one.

I looked down towards Alistair's team. Sten was taking care of the unarmored woman, and Alistair was still dealing with Zevran. There were a couple of archers behind a cart trying to pick off one of the trio, but Wynne was keeping those heads down. I aimed at one and shot; Leliana and a mage fired, too. Neither of the targets got back up.

"Move in!" I called and climbed over the hump. I knew I was taking a chance, but nothing came flying at me. "Neria, help Alistair!" I wasn't about to try shooting into a melee, and I didn't think Leliana would either. Morrigan might, especially if she could inconvenience Alistair without really hurting him. (As an aside, despite their sniping, both of them have been showing a lot more respect for each other's abilities since the Tower. You can see it, but neither of them would admit it.) Anyway, I scrambled down an embankment on to the road (narrowly missing some obvious tripwires in the process) and headed towards the rise on the other side. Leliana was right behind me.

What happened next: totally my fault. At least nobody else got hurt. I came across a fellow lying on the ground. He had a good bloodstain on him, but I didn't see any other wounds. He had a hand under his back; I've seen enough cop shows to know what to do.

"You! Both hands where I can see them. Slowly." I had my bow pointed directly at him.

He raised his empty hands slowly. "Please," he said, and his face meant it.

Now, when I arrived here and killed that soldier it was a flash of 'I could die if I don't do this' and I ended up losing myself in the moment. I didn't think about what I was doing; I just did it. And in the Tower, going toe-to-toe with the Templars, I didn't get to see their faces. The mages I just ran over and knocked down. And this situation: it wasn't hard to shoot someone from a distance, especially since they were shooting back. But I was face-to-face with this guy, he was holding a hand out to me, pleading for help, and damned if my modern conditioning didn't end up screwing me over.

I turned to call for a healer but a flash of movement caught my attention. The SOB flicked a knife at me; I'd caught it on the crossbow. But while I was busy with that he leapt to his feet and pulled another knife from somewhere. He stabbed at me; I somehow managed to dodge the thrust and block with my left arm. He stabbed me solidly through the forearm; it didn't hurt, but it would in a few seconds. I tried to bring the crossbow back around but couldn't before he stabbed at me again, low and hard. My left arm was still listening to my brain and I got my hand in front of the knife. I wasn't wearing my gloves (I'm not sure they would have helped anyway) and ended up getting my hand sliced open from fingers to wrist. It was about then I started feeling the pain and realized I was going into shock, but I had enough fight left in me to block another stab with the crossbow and then try to kick the guy in the knee. The bow and the knife got mixed up and the bow was pulled from my hand as he dodged my kick. The pain hit in full as he shook away the bow. My vision was already tunneling; now it started to go.

"Die, Warden!"

"Fuck you!"

I don't know how I got that out or how I dodged or blocked the next blow, but the stab aimed at my heart hit the meaty party of my chest. I stepped in and threw my elbow at him; I connected. I barely felt it, but it was strong enough to push the guy a step or two back. He came at me again, but instead of stabbing at me he stabbed at the air to my left. And then Morrigan reached around me and grabbed his head with her hands. Her arms flexed then flexed again as she shoved the man away. He was holding his head and screaming.

"Get down!" she snapped and pulled me towards her.

At that point I wasn't in any condition to argue and I let Morrigan (and, I assume, Leliana) push me to the ground. From somewhere I heard a voice say, "I think I need a doctor."

Somehow I didn't pass out, but I wasn't really seeing anything, either. Morrigan yelled something while Leliana said something else that was supposed to be reassuring. Then Morrigan reached a hand towards me; there was a little blob of energy in it.

'Oh, hell no' was how I reacted to that. I know she wasn't going to hurt me but at the time the last thing I wanted was for my brain to start leaking out my ears. Despite what Morrigan was trying to say to me I used my good hand to fend her off until Wynne got there. And Wynne put her face directly in mine, said something to somebody, and everything went discontinuity.

My arm and chest itched like crazy but I couldn't get my hand under the dressings. A cool hand reached out and took mine and pulled it away from the dressings.

"Wynne most pointedly told me to not let you scratch." Morrigan's voice was close.

I opened my eyes and snapped them shut again. I was looking almost straight up into a bright, clear sky. "How long…?" I asked as I squeezed my eyes open.

"Not long. Perhaps half an hour. Are you able to sit up?"

"Yeah, but oof." I grunted as I pushed myself into a sitting position. I wasn't hurting so much as feeling really stiff, but something flickered across Morrigan's face. "Was that…concern?"

The mask slipped back into place. "If you are feeling well enough to jest then I suppose you are well enough." Then her face softened again, but just for an instant. "And that is good. Now, if you will pardon me for a moment I must fetch the Wardens." Morrigan turned her head and her voice turned sharp "You will continue to sit quietly. And do not forget: I can kill you with my mind." Then she pointed at a lump that turned out to be Cullen. "He will just use his teeth. And that will take longer."

I followed her gaze to where Zevran was sitting topless, hands behind his back. Blond hair tied back, tats, and a beautiful bruise on his right cheek and eye. Oh, did I say topless? The guy's tiny but built like an Olympic gymnast; muscles, tendons, not an ounce of stray fat anywhere that I could see. My companions had (sensibly, given what happened to me) stripped him down to his breeches and bound his hands, elbows, and ankles. He had a few more cuts and bruises that he must have picked up during his fight with Alistair, and more than a few scars, including a beauty running down from his waist that was highlighted with a tattoo.

But now, instead of the usual smirk that I always pictured him wearing he actually looked worried and even nodded seriously at Morrigan's warning. "Don't worry, mia belleza obscura. My life is yours."

"Do not forget that." Morrigan stood and walked away.

I watched her go with a lot more interest than I should have had.

"A deadly beauty, no, mio amico?"

I looked back at the elf. "That she is."

"And what she did to poor Julian…-" Zevran actually turned pale beneath his tan. "-well, there was not much left of him." He inclined his head to me. "But I must offer you my thanks, mio amico, for were it not for your encounter with Julian I probably wouldn't be alive right now." His eyes flitted to my bandages. "Although I will understand if you don't say that I'm welcome. But you; you are feeling well, no?"

"Well enough, I guess."

"No burning on your tongue or the back of your throat? No aches in your joints?"

"No, and-" I flexed my right hand; the left was bandaged and in a sling. "-no. Why?"

"An excellent question. You see, despite my instructions to not do so, Julian chose to poison his arrows. I didn't know if he had poisoned his blade; your leader was kind – and wise – enough to allow me to live."

"Because you know the antidote."

A nod and a small smile. "Si. Although you, I am certain, are happy it is not needed."

"I suppose you could say that."

"I am saying that." He winced slightly. "Ah, that was rude of me."

"And trying to kill us wasn't?"

"That was merely business. Nothing personal. But I have forgotten my manners. I am Zevran Aranai, late of Antiva, and even later of the Antivan Crows."

"I'm Jeffrey, although most folks call me Jeff. But don't you mean formerly of the Antivan Crows? Last I heard they don't look too favorably on failure and capture."

Zevran actually smiled at that. "You seem to have me at even more of a disadvantage, my dear Warden."

"I'm not a Warden."

Zevran blinked then laughed and rolled his eyes. "Julian, se stato cozi stupido. I told my companions there were only two Grey Wardens, but they insisted there were three. I suppose Julian was hoping to kill you to salvage something of this fiasco. And I understand it was your idea to strike us from behind?"

I nodded. "You picked a good spot, but well…." I gave him a frown and nodded at his bindings. "That's what you get for fixating on your kill zone. Next time remember your flank security."

"I will remember that. Provided I live through the day." He nodded at the rest of the group as they approached.

"Jeffrey!" Neria trotted up to me, but gave Zevran a dirty look. "How do you feel?"

I reached for Alistair's hand. "Pretty itchy-" I answered as he pulled me up.

"Don't scratch unless you want the-"

"I know, but, thank you, Wynne."

"You are welcome, but please be more careful in the future."

I sighed at that.

"What are we to do with the elf?" Sten asked.

There was kind of a collective 'Hmm' from the group, but Zevran spoke first. "Given my current status with the Crows I am more than willing to transfer my loyalty to the beautiful Warden."

Now there was a collective 'Huh?' Alistair actually started laughing. Even Sten looked nonplussed.

Neria recovered first. (Well, second, given that I knew this was coming.) "Give us one good reason."

Zevran didn't hesitate. "I know how the Crows operate. Should they make another attempt…." He left the implications hanging.

Alistair and Neria snorted at the same time, but he spoke first. "If they make another attempt I'll suspect we'll have the same outcome."

"Perhaps. But why take the chance? And if you don't wish to keep me for that I can provide other services." He looked around the group. "If any of you are in the need for a bedwarmer I can-"

"No," Neria and Morrigan said simultaneously.

"No," Leliana said as the elf's eyes fell on her.

[growl]

"Hurt, hurt I am. But-"

"Maker, no!" Alistair cried.

Sten glowered. (He likes doing that.)

Zevran looked back and forth between Wynne and me. "The oldest members of the group have yet to speak."

Wynne just shook her head.

"And you?"

I gestured at the sling and bandages. "Like I'm gonna help you out on this."

"You have a good point there. Well, I have more mundane skills as well. I am versed in the arts of stealth, am able to pick the occasional lock or steal the odd purse, and am more than simply proficient with a blade, as your friend there can attest." He nodded to Alistair. "And your skills, be proud of them; they are more than simply proficient as well."

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

"But," Wynne asked, "what can you offer us that we don't already have?"

"Aside from my charm and my strong yet delicate features?" Zevran pretended to ignore Wynne's glare and continued. "Is not an extra sword arm always useful? After all, the seven of you against-"

[growl]

"I am sorry, bella bestia. The eight of you; that number versus those aligned against you…well, those are poor odds."

"Suppose we just free you?" Neria asked. "Send you on your way?"

"A very good question. Well, I would be bound by both contract and honor to make another attempt upon you. Provided the Crows allow me that opportunity." He tensed then relaxed. "No. As much as I like living, better to be killed quickly. My life is yours."

The rest of us looked around at each other. I knew the deal, so if Neria called a vote I'd be in favor, but it wasn't necessary. Neria reached for her knife, touched the hilt, and mumbled something as she shook her head. "Fine," she said with just enough volume to hear.

"Wait! What? You're bringing the assassin with us? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, if you don't want him along you kill him."

"Certainly." Alistair's sword came out of its scabbard.

Zevran's eyes bugged slightly. "Oh, dear. Are you certain you don't wish to reconsider?"

"Alistair, wait." Neria actually reached her hand out to him.

"Neria, he could have killed us! Jeff could have been poisoned!"

"Yes, but he offered to help-"

"Jeff, what about you? How do you feel about bringing this…person along with us?"

"I trust him. Enough."

"Ah! Maker! You, too?" But he slammed his sword back into the scabbard. "I hope we don't end up regretting this."

"I promise that you will not."

Neria looked around. "Any other objections?"

Wynne spoke up. "Are you certain this is wise?"

Neria shook her head. "Sten wasn't a wise decision, but he's proven himself."

"My thanks, Warden."

"And Alistair warned you that's there's not a sane one in the bunch. Why not add a failed assassin?"

"I shall choose to overlook that insult."

"Having an Antivan Crow with us could be interesting," Leliana added.

"Yes, it could. Especially with one as delightful as you, mia bellezza Orlesia."

Leliana shook her head and turned away. "Or not."

"Ah, my heart; she wounds me."

"Enough!" Neria said. "I need to know right now: can I- can we trust you?"

Zevran's face turned serious. "Very well. I hereby pledge my loyalty to you and your companions. I am your man until such time as you choose to release me from your service. This I swear."

Alistair shook his head. "Well, if we didn't already have a sign that we're desperate then this just kicked in the door."

"Alistair, would you untie him? Please."

Alistair flipped the elf over with absolutely zero gentleness.

"Careful, mio amico! Unless, of course, you wish to treat me so, but wouldn't that be more appropriate in a more private setting?"

"Quiet you!"

"You may gag me if youoof!"

"Sorry about that."

It took a couple minutes to get the elf untied and on his feet. He was a little unsteady but managed to bow gracefully to Neria. "I thank you, mio capa bella."

Neria stepped up, her face deadly serious. "Do not make me regret this."

"Of course not."

Neria suddenly clenched her fist and sucker-punched Zevran in the face. The elf hit the ground; the mage knelt down to him and said something I couldn't hear.

Zevran swallowed deliberately and turned pale, but maintained his composure. "I understand."

"You'd better." Neria stood up and turned around with pain on her face. "Wynne, I think I broke my hand again."

* * *

><p><em>AN: everybody please welcome Zevran aboard the crazy train._


	34. Around the Horn

**16 Solace (day 29), evening**

Morrigan reached out with a glowing hand and placed it on my bandaged one. I didn't fight her this time. Wynne's hand was right next to hers.

"Do you feel that?" the older mage asked.

"I…think so."

"Can you feel what I'm doing?"

"I…ah! Yes."

Warm itchiness tingled in my hand as Wynne – well, concentrated is too strong a word. "Now you try." The warmth was replaced by tingling as Morrigan did concentrate. "Good, but don't forget to breath."

Morrigan let out the breath she'd been holding. "Like this?" The tingling slowly became warm, but the itching came close to unbearable.

I reached across my chest with my free and clenched and unclenched my free hand. Wynne smacked at it. "I thought I told you not to scratch."

"I'm not scratching; I'm only pretending to scratch."

"Well, don't do that either; you'll just make yourself crazy thinking about scratching."

"Already there."

Wynne sighed. "At least you're better than Alistair. Up here, Morrigan." They both laid a gentle hand on the sling, concentrated, and-

"Ah, no! That's worse!"

The itchy warmth faded and left just itchy aching. Wynne gave me a scolding look and dived back in. Morrigan just grinned and kept working. This time I was ready and endured. Barely. But when Wynne (get it?) and Morrigan were done the itching faded from omnipresent to merely distracting. I sighed with relief and closed my eyes and got another smack on the hand. Ah, the joys of being a training aid.

"Don't rub it, either." Wynne looked up. "Well done, Morrigan."

The witch took a deep breath. "My thanks."

"You're welcome."

Hmm. Morrigan and Wynne. Interesting combo there. They certainly have their differences, but they also have a respect for each other that's not too hard to see. As long as Wynne doesn't come across as patronizing or Morrigan as bullying they seem to get along pretty well. Although I'm not sure what Morrigan's offering to Wynne in exchange for learning to heal, I am positive Wynne's a more sympathetic teacher than Flemeth.

Morrigan opened her mouth to respond, but then tightly pressed her lips together and looked over my shoulder.

"Scusi. I merely wished to see how my wounded friend is doing. And, perhaps, speak with the lovely senore who are caring for him."

"I'm fine." I looked back at Zevran. He was still sporting two bruises on his face.

"Jeff's doing well," Wynne answered, "but he needs more attention that you are keeping us from giving him."

"I see. Well, I have no wish to distract you from your duties. Another time." He turned to walk away; Sten wasn't very far behind him.

Morrigan continued to stare for a moment then huffed. "The elf is…maddening. More so than Alistair."

Wynne nodded. "That's one thing I'll whole-heartedly agree with you on. Do you know what he called me? 'The matronly mage of the magical mammelle.' As much as I appreciate the alliteration…."

"He said I was a 'delicate flower of the southern reaches.' Charming, I suppose, but then he asked to sample my scents."

"Brave man," I said. Morrigan gave me a sharp look. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. But just a few hours ago you did threaten to rip out his spine and use it for soup."

"And I will if he persists in-"

"Pestering? Sorry, couldn't resist."

Morrigan glared at me. "Would you like to know what else he said to me?"

I very briefly wondered what she was going for with that. "If you're trying to embarrass me it won't work."

The glare turned nuclear. "He stated a desire to 'open my petals and nibble upon my stem.'"

Was she trying to embarrass me? Meh, didn't work. "I'll have to remember that one."

Wynne tittered. (Sorry, it's the best word I could come up with.) Morrigan shot her a look, but the older mage spoke. "He claimed to be 'weary of life' but insisted that a short rest with his head upon my bosom would restore him."

"Now that was just cheesy. Did it work?"

Morrigan chuckled. (I don't think she'd ever giggle, and she certainly wouldn't 'titter.')

"Of course not!"

"Had to ask. But did you know he offered to keep me company tonight? As an 'entirely selfless way of offering my apologies.'" Both women rolled their eyes at my take on Zevran's accent. "He said he always enjoys a 'man with experience.'"

"Did that work?"

"No, but I was flattered. Just don't tell him that. If he finds out I'll need to sleep in my armor."

**17 Solace (day 30), late morning**

Ran into bandits. Neria killed the leader. The others ran off.

**Evening**

The best thing that came out of picking up Zevran was the cart and draft horse he'd used to transport his folks' gear. And the gear itself. We've got enough tents now that everybody can have their own (although Alistair and I decided to keep bunking together), and we don't have to hump our packs. And we ended up with some extra cash. And supplies. And an extra hunk of cheese.

"That looks so tasty." Alistair was practically drooling.

"It is." It tastes like provolone. "Try some."

"I'm not sure I trust it. How can you? How do you know he didn't poison it?"

"Why would he poison his own cheese?"

"Why wouldn't he? I mean, think about it: he sets up that lousy ambush to get the rest of his team killed, works his way into our confidence, then poisons us with his own supplies. And then he collects the bounty on us without having to share it with anybody."

I stopped chewing and damn near spit out the bread and cheese I was eating. Oh, well; it was already too late. I shrugged and swallowed. "That's pretty devious. Especially for you."

Alistair shrugged back but kept staring at the cheese. "I'm half surprised we didn't all wake up dead this morning. Or however that works. I still can't believe Neria let him join us."

"Speaking of which: how's she doing?" I haven't had a chance to really talk with her since the other night.

"Well, I guess. She doesn't seem to be mad at me any more."

"Did you apologize?"

"I did, but I don't think it helped much."

"Why not?"

"She's just not as…cheerful as she was. And before you threaten to hit me upside the head, I know she's still upset about the Tower. What I meant was…she's got a…bit of a…mean streak now."

"You sure about not needing that hit?"

"You saw the way she fireballed that bandit today. Didn't even give him a chance to run. And yesterday; when she thought you'd been poisoned? After she hit Zevran – the first time - she said she'd burn him from the toes up if you died. Scared me, too, the way she said it."

I thought about that for a moment but didn't come up with any answers. I'm gonna have to think about it some more. But I did decide to hold off on the Gibbs' slap.

Alistair sighed. "Anyway, with regards to that cheese, go ahead cut me off a hunk. At least if it kills me the elf won't be far behind."

**18 Solace (day 31), sunrise**

"You're not Thing." Don't ask me how I knew, but I could tell. Something was just slightly off. Maybe it was the angle of the carapace.

Cousin It shifted. Uncomfortably, it seemed to me.

"Don't worry, I don't bite."

More shifting.

"I suppose Thing had something else going on tonight? Hot date, maybe? Car trouble?"

Can a creature with no eyes roll them?

"Or did he just need a break from me? I'm not insulted if he did; I need a break from me every now and then, too."

Definite eye rolling.

"I know. Anyway, I've shown this to Thing, but you wanna see something cool?"

Interest? Whatever, I ran with it.

"This'll take a minute, so be patient." I winced. If It's anything like Thing, it's patient. "Sorry." I found my usual spot, sat down, and found my center. It took a few minutes but I finally felt the weight in my hand. "Yes! A new personal best!" I hopped back up and trotted over to where Cousin It was waiting. "You know what this is?"

I held up the bolt carrier for a M16. I spent enough time as an armorer repairing and cleaning the damn things that I know them inside and out. It was actually easier to (deliberately) summon than the crossbow.

"I've got to work on the rest of it, but when I get that down me and Thing are going on a walkabout. You're welcome to come along if you'd like."

Nothing at all.

"Well, uhm, I don't want to be rude, so would you mind if I kept working on this? Or would you rather play chess?"

**Noon**

"How are your injuries?"

"Both are fine, at least according to Wynne. Still itches like crazy, though."

"You are fortunate that the older boss serabos is a skilled healer."

"Yeah. But you know you could let her look at you."

Sten grumbled. "My injury is not as severe as yours."

"It won't take her much effort. Or ask Neria."

Sten grumbled again. "It is of no consequence."

"Don't bullshit me; I've seen you favoring that side."

"I am not bullshitting you; my injury is healing satisfactorily."

"If you say so."

"You sound unconvinced."

"I am."

"A lesson of the Qun applies: physical pain is but a fleeting experience. It is one's honor that is difficult to heal."

I thought about that for a second. "My people have a similar saying: pain is temporary, but glory is forever."

Sten gave me an appraising look. "Perhaps your people are more enlightened than they appear to be."

I shook my head. "No. We usually add another line: chicks dig- Uh, women like scars. Although we usually say that last part right before doing something stupid."

Sten was quiet for short time. "Do not discredit yourself," he finally said. "Kossith women have a predilection for those who have proven both their honor and their physical worth. Although kossith men tend to be more reflective before entering into risky activities."

That took a little bit to interpret. But finally ding. "So are you still playing the field, or is there someone specific you're talking about?"

Sten's features locked down even more than usual.

"You dog, you. I'd've never guessed."

Sten's face could have been carved out of granite by this time.

Ding. "Don't worry. We'll get your sword back."

"I know."

**Late afternoon**

[questioning whine]

"No, I don't have any more chicken."

[moaning whine]

"I don't care how pitiful you get; I don't have any more.'

Cullen twisted his head around and rubbed the top of it on the ground. His back end was still standing. Then the back end suddenly flopped over; he ended up on his back giving me his best derp face.

"Okay, now that was cute. But I still don't have any more chicken."

He flipped back over and hopped to his feet. His eyes communicated the existence of an idea.

"No! Even if you get me one I don't have the spices."

Cullen flopped down on his side and gave me a look.

"Yeah, I'm sad about it, too."

**Evening**

"Jeffrey, is there any of that soft yellow cheese left?"

"I don't know. I was after some myself."

"Maybe in that sack?"

"Nope. Hmmp."

Neria frowned. "You think Alistair got hold of it?"

"I _know_ Alistair got hold of it. But that was like ten pounds of cheese; there's no way he could have eaten it all."

"You haven't seen Alistair tear into a cheese." Neria scowled and turned away. "Where is he?"

"Neria!"

She spun back around to me. "What?" It was half-snarled.

I held up some placating hands. "Wait, please. I think Alistair would appreciate you not melting his face off."

Neria stared hard at me for a moment. "Ah! You're right." Then the Warden and the woman and the mage disappeared and were replaced by a confused teenager. "Am I all right?"

"I think so."

"But I'm…just…so…angry. All the time. Even now. At you. At Alistair. Is that…. What's that word you use?"

I thought about it for a second. "Okay?"

"That's it. Okay."

"Yeah, it's okay." I saw Zevran approaching. "As long as you don't melt anybody's face off. What is it, Zevran?"

"I would like to speak with Neria." He's still sporting the bruises he picked up during the ambush. None of mages have agreed to heal him, and I don't think he's willing to waste a healing potion on such a minor thing.

Neria's face changed back to Warden mode. "What?"

"Mio capo bella. Am I to be trusted or not?" He gracefully (seems like everything he does is graceful; he probably craps gracefully) pointed to where Alistair was watching him with all the subtlety of a chainsaw.

"You tried to kill us two days ago. You're lucky to be alive."

"As I explained: that was purely business-"

"And as I explained: some of us are going to need some time to get used to you."

"Si. I understand, but such distrust; it wears on one."

Neria didn't answer, and I couldn't see her face.

"Fine. But if I am to have a guard, could it not be you tonight? I promise to not struggle too-"

"Go away, Zevran."

A short bow. "Buono sera." A graceful turn, and a graceful walk, and Alistair clomped along behind him.

Neria turned back to me. "And I'm mad at Zevran. I swear; if he asks to warm my bed one more time…."

I smiled at that. "You're not alone. I think the only one of us he hasn't hit on is Cullen."

Neria smiled back. "You're wrong. Last night I heard Zevran telling Cullen that it's a shame to sleep alone, and that he would be honored to have such a handsome Mabari share a bed with him."

"Did it work?"

"No. Cullen just growled at him."

"Speaking of Zevran: why did you let him join us?"

"Why did you?"

Huh? "Huh?"

"I didn't really want him to come along, but I didn't really want to kill him either. But when Alistair said he'd do it – kill Zevran – I saw you just tense up. You didn't say anything but I knew you were thinking that it'd be a bad idea. So why did you want to keep him?"

I didn't know I'd telegraphed myself that clearly. I shrugged at Neria. "Call it a hunch. I had a few minutes to talk to him after I came to. He…I don't know…he sold himself to me. It felt right."

Neria regarded me for a moment. "I hope you're right. But he's maddening to have around!"

I laughed. "That's what Morrigan said."

"Really?"

Speak of the devil and she will appear. "Ask her."

Neria turned around but Morrigan stalked up with a 'don't fuck with me' expression and her backpack. She handed the pack to Neria, spun about, and strutted away.

"Jeffrey!"

I snapped my attention from Morrigan back to Neria.

"Stop watching Morrigan and tell me what to do with this." She held up the pack.

I shrugged. "Open it?"

Neria opened the pack, looked in, and squeaked. "Excuse me, but I have to go speak to Cullen, too."

"Wait a minute. It's, uh, okay to be angry. Even at yourself. But when you get angry try asking yourself why. Why you're angry. It won't be easy, but…."

She thought about that for a minute. "I'll try."

"Oh, and Neria? Nothing that happened in the Tower is your fault. I know it doesn't seem that way right now, but it wasn't."

She gave me another smile. "I'll try to remember that." She turned to go.

"Oh, and Neria? Try not to melt anybody's face off."

"I'll _try_."

I watched her walk away for a bit then started poking around the sacks again. Score!

**19 Solace (day 32), morning**

She was sitting on my lap, nuzzling my neck, tickling my ear, and telling me how good I looked since I shaved. But all I could think of was how OOC this was for Leliana. Still, why let a good thing go to waste?

"Jeffrey." Leliana's voice was soft and her breath was warm and moist against my cheek.

"Do that again." I put an arm around her and gently squeezed her hip.

"Jeffrey." Her hand squeezed my shoulder in return. "Are you well?"

Wait a minute. I yanked my eyes open and looked right at Leliana. "What's wrong?"

"I was going to ask you that. You were mumbling as if you were having a nightmare."

I felt heat rise into my face.

She gave me a knowing look. "Not a nightmare, then. Of whom were you dreaming?"

Forget chocolate. I could have melted the saucepan.

Leliana grinned at me. "I am flattered."

"Could I get a little privacy here?"

The grin got bigger. "Certainly, but be careful that Zevran does not hear you."

"Never mind, I'm up."

"I am sure you are."

And I'd just started cooling down. "Are you taking pointers from Zevran now?"

"Oh, no. I just wanted to see how red you would get."

I think I got to 11. Maybe 12. "Unless you've got a bucket of paint this is it."

"Oh, I do not know about that."

"Nope. Sorry. No more embarrassment left. Try me again tomorrow."

Laughter. "I am sorry."

"You don't sound sorry."

"You are right; I am not. Well, maybe a little. But you did turn a delightful shade of red."

"I suppose there's a good reason for all this abuse?"

The grin turned into a friendly smile. "I just did not want you to suffer through a nightmare. I am sorry it was not." She bit her lips, probably to keep from laughing. "But since you are awake: where did you hide the good yellow cheese?"

"It's right on the end of the cart."

"But Alistair-"

"You don't have to worry about that. Uncle Alistair has a tummy-ache. 'Too much cheese,' Wynne said. I came out here to get away from the complaining." And the smell; he really stunk up our hooch.

Leliana snorted gently and bit her lips again. "I should not laugh at his distress, but it does serve him right."

"But it's okay to laugh at my distress?"

"No. No it is not."

"I'd be more likely to believe you if you weren't trying to not laugh."

"I am not trying not to laugh."

"Oh, just get on with it!"

That just made her try harder. Oy.

* * *

><p>Zevran's not just a ball of walking sexual innuendo. Case in point:<p>

"Mio amico, may I speak with you a moment?"

I closed the journal on my finger. "Sure."

"Your…occialli…I do not know the word in your language…." He pointed to my-

"Glasses."

"Glasses, si. Glasses. I have noticed you don't wear them all the time…."

I explained nearsightedness and that led to some more questions, and that led to us going to talk to Wynne.

"Your eyes," she said to me, "are healthy, as far as I'm able to tell. But you've needed lenses for how long…?"

"Twenty five years now."

Zevran interrupted. "Wait! How old are you?"

"Forty-seven."

"And to look as good you do. Tell me: do the women in your country age as well as the men?" At the looks Wynne and I gave him he relented. "Ah, no matter. It's a subject for another time."

Wynne continued. "Twenty-five years ago I might have been able to keep your eyes from changing…." She launched into a technical explanation of bodily functions and how their long-term changes are seen as normal WRT magical healing, but short term changes can be reversed. It made good sense to me, but I'm not gonna bore you with the details. Short answer: she can't correct my vision.

But then Zevran spoke up again. "Que bastardi! No, no, not the two of you." He looked a bit angry. "A couple of years ago a Crow cell was investigating a situation in Rivain. To my knowledge nothing more came of it; we weren't able to find many answers. But in light of what Wynne has told us…. I must think on this." He bowed to Wynne. "For your time: grazi." And he turned to go.

We watched him walk away. Wynne gave a small 'hmph.'

"What's wrong?"

"This is the first time I've spoken to him that he's not mentioned my 'magical bosom.'"

"I thought…."

"I don't, but it is nice to be noticed."

I gave her a raised eyebrow.

"I am still a woman, after all."

I dropped my eyebrow and gave Wynne a deliberate once-over. "So you are."

"Shoo!"

**Evening**

Zevran looked up at me from where he was laying on the ground. "Are you sure about this, mio amico?"

"Positive. If something like that happens again I wanna know what I did wrong the first time. Let's go." I turned away from him slightly and we reenacted the fight I'd had with Julian. "And if anything goes wrong…." I nodded to Morrigan, who'd agreed to patch me up if necessary. Although she didn't say anything about fixing Zevran, not that I thought he'd need it.

The little dude's quick; he would have given me the same wounds Julian did. But we went through the fight a few times at various speeds. The last couple I was able to avoid anything life-threatening and even got a hit or two in myself.

We stood panting at each other, and Zevran gave me a nod. "Not bad at all, especially with no weapon. But here-" He tossed me the practice stick. "-see how you fare with the advantage."

Oy. We sparred for a while longer, but there's a reason I'm not going with the rogue loadout.

Zevran called me out on it. "You are quick; very much so for a man your age. But knives; they do not suit your style. But if you are willing to learn I will be willing to teach."

"I've already been working with Leliana." (Then again, she's pretty frustrated at my lack of progress with knives. Maybe Zevran can show me something Leliana can't.)

"Oh, I see!" He gave me a grin that only meant one thing.

"Not that way!"

"Such a shame. For you, at least. But perhaps she will be more amenable to a younger man."

Morrigan laughed. "Not if I understand Orlesian as well as I think I do."

"And you, my belleza obscura? What is your preference? The older, but fit, gentleman with the broad shoulders, or the small, lithe fellow with fewer years?"

I was already overheated enough that any flushing I'd do probably wouldn't be seen, but Morrigan ignored me and fired right back.

"Younger men do tend to have to have more stamina," Morrigan said thoughtfully. "My mother preferred that quality to experience. The more to drain from them before discarding them, I suppose. Such a test would be intriguing."

Zevran bowed slightly to her. "Another time, then, mia belleza mortale." Then he looked to me. "We should clean up before supper, should we not? There is a cool stream over there."

Nice try. "I'd prefer to take my chances with Morrigan."

She laughed and stood. "Give me warning before you approach my tent. I must ensure I have the correct knife prepared."

"No problem. Midnight good for you?"

"Alas. I have watch at that time. Perhaps another night?"

"Just say the word."

"I shall." And she turned and strolled away.

We watched her walk for a moment then Zevran turned to me. "You are playing with fire, mio amico," he said seriously.

"I have no intention of getting burned. And to extend the metaphor: I'm not even thinking about keeping my hands warm."

"No one ever does."

* * *

><p>Speaking of fire: the grimoire. Well, it didn't bite me. It didn't drive me insane. (Or more insane.) It didn't bump any of my stats. It didn't even create a vortex and suck me into the pages. What it did was scarier. I flipped through a few pages, read a quick passage that could have been about either magic or particle physics then found the following:<p>

_Fadewalker,_

_The answers you are looking for will not be found in this tome. Feel free to see for yourself, but be warned that you may, nay, will not like much of what you find. But I would ask that once you have completed your perusal that you pass this book on to my daughter._

_But first – tear this page from the book and keep it safe. Consider it your invitation to visit with me should you have the chance._

_Best regards,_

_Flemeth_

When I stopped shaking enough to do it I took Flemeth's advice and tore the page out. I put it in the ziploc and tucked that in the back of a blank journal. I'll pass the grimoire on to Neria later. After I stop shaking again. Hmm. Maybe I did take a couple points of SAN damage.

**20 Solace (day 33), morning**

"Please."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"_Please._"

"_No!_"

"_Je-eff_."

"I didn't know your voice could go that high."

"It's a special talent. I learned it trying to wheedle the kitchen ladies at Redcliffe. Only dogs and _very mean people_ can hear it."

"I'm not being mean. I'm supposed to make sure you don't eat yourself sick again. And I have a vested interest; I'm bunking with you. I do _not_ want to deal with another night like that last one."

"Another slice won't hurt."

"Wynne said two slices at each meal. And the way you eat that's at least a dozen a day. That's plenty until Wynne says otherwise."

"Then give me your slice."

"Dude, I'm hungry, too!"

"Oh, come on. Wynne won't know."

"…"

"What?"

"As soon as she sees you she'll know. She can read you like a romance novel."

"No she can't."

"Didn't she talk to you about Neria?"

"…"

"See?"

"All right, but this is different."

"No it isn't!"

"Oh, come on! Please?"

"No!"

"You're a bad man. A bad, bad man. I might even go so far as to say you're an evil man."

"It's a growth industry."

**noon**

"Aren't we there yet?" Alistair asked.

"Well, no," Levi answered. "There's a bit of a problem, you see…."

"Are we lost? We can't be lost; we're on the north road."

"We're not lost. We just need some more time to get there."

"More time? You said we wouldn't need a week!"

"I, uh, rode. I didn't think you'd be walking all the way."

"Sten, tear his arms off. Morrigan, turn his brain into pudding. Jeff, kick him in the stones."

I was pretty ticked off myself. "How 'bout I just rip out his heart and show it to him before he dies?"

"No, that's what I'm going to do."

Levi looked understandably nervous. "M'lady Warden?"

Neria jumped in. "Didn't our lack of horses mean anything?"

"Uh…."

"We have travelled halfway to Denerim," Leliana said. "And we must now travel halfway further?"

"And, uh, maybe halfway further again."

Zevran spoke up hopefully. "Are you going to punch _him_ now?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Wow, this is tougher than I thought it would be. I now have two OCs plus the seven canonical party members to keep track of. I'll do my best to give everyone screen time, but it ain't gonna be easy, and some of your favorites may see a little neglect._

_Thanks again and again to all the readers, reviewers, favers, and alerters out there! You know who you are, and, as always, I appreciate the feedback._

_Last minute edit: Wow! Check out _Tales of an Unlikely Mage_ just started by D-Ro2593. I have to give him a shout-out to say thanks for giving me a shout-out in his first chapter. Stop by, check out his fic, and give him some feedback._


	35. Welcome Aboard

**21 Solace (day 34), sunrise**

"Thing! How was Vegas?"

He shifted slightly.

"Cancun? Tatooine? 88th layer of the Abyss?"

He shifted some more. It was kind of impatient.

"Seriously, though; it's good to see you back. But I don't suppose you know what that is?"

Off in the distance (for what that's worth in the Fade) there was a flickering light. Maybe a fire or a reflection. Whatever it was I couldn't make out and I hadn't seen it before.

Thing shrugged in his own alien way.

It looked too far away to go investigate, so I shrugged back. "Another game of chess?"

Thing hissed at me.

"Fine." I went back to trying to summon the M16.

**Noon**

Alistair was working on his breakfast cheese ration under Wynne's and my watchful eyes. He was giving us both a baleful stare, but that didn't stop him from thoroughly enjoying the slim (for him) ration. He finished the first slice, looked at the second, and opened his mouth to protest.

Wynne beat him to it. "This is your own fault, and complaining won't do you any good."

He narrowed his eyes at Wynne. "I didn't expect you to be evil, too."

I couldn't resist. "Ooh, he's grumpy."

Wynne stared right back Alistair. "Better grumpy than ill. And both Jeff and I agree on that."

"A third slice won't make me sick."

"I know, but this isn't for your health. You're being punished."

"I'm what? I am not a child!"

I winced; that was definitely the wrong thing to say to Wynne.

"Then why did you act like one? You stole a cheese-"

"I did not steal it!"

"-and you hoarded it for yourself. And you made yourself ill with it and drove poor Jeff out of your tent."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad."

"Dude. I can put up with a lot, but that was some-"

"Are you two finished picking on my fellow Warden?" Neria's voice wasn't angry, though. Tired, still, I think.

"Thank you, Neria. See? It wasn't that bad."

Wynne smiled up at her fellow mage. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Wynne. And Jeffrey. And you, too, Alistair."

Alistair returned the greeting with a very grateful expression. "Good morning, Neria. I'm glad somebody likes me today."

Neria plopped on the rock next to him. She did indeed look tired, but at least she didn't look as sad/upset as she has been. "Alistair, I always like you."

Cheesy grin time. "Really, now? Well, the day is looking better."

"I need to ask you all about Zevran."

The grin imploded. "Well, the day was looking better. What about him?"

Neria frowned. "He asked me again if he's trustworthy. Do you trust him?"

Alistair's head snapped around. "You're joking, right?"

"I wish I was. But it's been what? Four or five days since we've picked him up? He spoke to me last night and wanted to know what we planned for him."

Alistair stiffened up. "He's complaining that we didn't kill him?"

"No," I said, "he's complaining that we've brought him on board but got him sitting in the corner."

Neria nodded. "Exactly. And he wants to know if we trust him."

"Do we?"

"No!" Alistair snapped. He looked around and lowered his voice. "Why should we?"

Wynne spoke. "He hasn't tried to hurt us. And I would say he's had opportunities."

I agreed.

"Jeff, not you, too."

"What's the worst thing he's done to you since we captured him?"

Alistair didn't answer, but start turning red. Then he started stammering. "He's asked – several times – to…well…you know…."

"I think that's probably the worst thing he's done to any of us."

Neria stepped back in. "Do you trust him, Jeffrey?"

Of course I did. But could I just say it? I mean, objectively, if I didn't know what I know, could I honestly say I trust Zevran? I took a deep breath and blew it out. "He did offer to help cure that poison. And yes," I added quickly as Alistair started to say something, "I know he did that to save his own skin, but he did offer." He didn't have to. "I've sparred with him; so has Leliana. No issues there. And as closely as we've watched him there's still no way he couldn't have done something if he really wanted to." _Like poisoning a cheese._ I bit back both that and an evil grin. "You heard Morrigan call him out on that." I bobbed my head back and forth but eventually nodded. "Yeah. I trust him."

Alistair just frowned at me.

"Wynne?" Neria asked.

"I think I agree with Jeff."

"Maker! Are you all insane?"

Neria looked around at Alistair. "I guess I don't need to ask your opinion."

"Certainly not." Ah, righteous indignation.

Neria thought for a moment. "You two, Leliana, and me. Against Alistair, Sten, and Morrigan."

Wynne looked surprised. "Leliana?"

Neria smiled. (She's been doing more of that; I'm glad to see it.) "When I asked her she said something in Orlesian, said 'yes', then went back to Orlesian. I think she was swearing."

"Well, she should be," Alistair said. "I still think it's a bad idea."

"What about Cullen?" I asked.

"Well, he hasn't bitten Zevran's stones off yet…." Neria trailed off. "Although that's probably not the best sign of approval. Do you think we should ask him?"

"Neria," Wynne said, "Cullen is a _dog_."

"Maybe so," Alistair put in, "but sometimes he seems to have more sense than the rest of us put together."

That was my line. Oh, well. "Neria – and Alistair – they both make good points."

Wynne gave me that look of hers. "Really, Jeff?"

"Don't tell me you don't think he's smart."

Alistair snorted. "That's right; how many times has he stolen your staff?"

My turn. "By some measures that makes him smarter than you."

"He's definitely smarter than the two of you. Tormenting a-"

"So he does deserve a vote?"

Wynne narrowed her eyes at me. "Well played, young man."

* * *

><p>"I have two questions," Alistair said. "Where are those two? And what if Cullen says no?" He jumped up on a rock to look around.<p>

"Make that three questions," I added. "How will we know what his answer is? One bark for yes; two for no?" I had a brief flash of teaching the Mabari to bark in Morse code. "And three if Zevran's fallen down a well?"

"Oh, now you're just being silly. Everyone knows it's two barks for yes."

"That's true, you know," Neria added. "Unless they get excited; then there's no telling."

I opened my mouth, closed it, and looked at Wynne. She nodded. "Fine. Let's just hope Zevran's not down a well."

"But what if Cullen says no?" Alistair jumped back down. "I saw something that way."

"Then he leaves," Neria said.

Whoa. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Alistair gave her a disbelieving look. "Really? You'll send him on his way?"

Neria gave him a serious stare. "If half of us don't want him around then I don't either. Keeping him would just be begging for trouble."

That was a well-thought out answer. I gave Neria a look and saw the Warden face. I think she's starting to get the leadership thing. When the Warden face comes on I feel like she can take on anything, but it doesn't stay there long. Then the freaked out kid shows up again, at least until the next little crisis.

Alistair, though, is Alistair. I know he took a major blow when the Wardens were killed at Ostagar, but he's handling the entire situation a lot better than Neria. We've talked about it a bit; he doesn't like opening that wound, but he's compartmentalized the emotions well enough. At least as far as I can tell he has. Probably because of the warrior upbringing. I still don't know how he'll act if we get enough downtime.

And Wynne. Well, she lost as much as Neria did, but she's handling the situation as well as Alistair. Advantage of age and perspective, I guess. I mean, I'm finally handling the whole crazy situation like it's no big deal. I've been here a month and I feel like it's been forever. But down that road lies more madness.

The road we were on, however, soon revealed Leliana. She pointed us a little further up the road where we found a morosely patient Zevran throwing a stick for an inexhaustibly happy Cullen.

"I guess that's a 'yes' vote," Alistair grumbled resignedly.

* * *

><p>I'd wondered what had happened to Zevran's weapons. Turns out Neria had given them to Morrigan who in turn kept them hidden. Makes sense; Morrigan's the only one of us I think Zevran's really afraid of. But Neria had just wanted Morrigan to give the weapons back.<p>

"No," I told her. "You need to make a ceremony of it. Make him officially a part of the team."

I saw Neria get my 'ding' look in her eyes, which is why we were standing in a semi-circle behind her while she faced Zevran. "We've decided," Neria said, "all of us, that you're now part of the team." She gave Zevran his weapons.

Zevran bowed to Neria as he took his long knives. "You honor me, mio capo bella. Grazi. And thanks to the rest of you, as well." His eyes flicked over us; I have no doubt he knew who agreed with keeping him on and who didn't. "Rest assured; your trust will not be misplaced."

"And since you're one of us now…." Neria reached out with a glowing hand and gently caressed Zevran's face. The bruise remnants there faded, and Zevran stood a little easier. Nice touch.

**22 Solace (day 35), morning**

I'm still trying to knock out 50 each pushups and situps each morning when I can. I was halfway through the pushups when a pair of large feet crossed in front of me then stopped a respectful distance away.

"What's…up…Sten?"

"I do not wish to disturb your meditation."

"Uff…you're…not."

"Very well. What was your decision concerning the assassin?"

I stopped in the rest position. "Voted…to…keep…him." I still can't quite knock out 50 without stopping, but I'm getting there.

"You decided to keep him."

I finished up the last few pushups then sat to face Sten. "No. I voted to keep him." I was still panting, but gave Sten a no-nonsense stare. "Neria said she'd kick him out if at least half of us didn't want him."

Sten stopped to consider that. I started my situps. I was almost done when he spoke again. "I disagree with her decision."

I still had a few more reps to knock out, and it's a lot tougher to talk while doing situps, so I didn't answer.

Sten seemed to understand. "I did, however, tell her that I would support whatever decision she made. However, I did not think she had made the decision. I owe both you and her apologies."

I was laying on my back panting. "No apology needed. But if you offer it…I'll accept. Neria. She's…she's getting better."

"I have noticed. I was afraid her grief had consumed her, but she appears to be reemerging into her role. Yet…." I think the big guy sighed. "I have offered words of encouragement but she has not taken them in the spirit in which I offered them."

I'd pulled myself up to a sitting position. "What do you mean?"

"I told her I understand her grief at losing her companions. And that her reactions are normal. And that I would be willing to discuss her…situation with her should she be willing."

'I've told her pretty much the same thing. But we've talked a few times." I shrugged. "Don't know why she hasn't come to you, too."

Sten looked thoughtful. "I believe I intimidate her. You are more…approachable." His mouth twitched, just barely. "And before you shaved you bore a resemblance to the boss seraboss leader Irving. Perhaps that aided her decision to confide in you."

"You thought that was funny, too?"

"The interlude was amusing, but that is irrelevant to our current discussion." He stood up, quickly and smoothly. "Which is over." He gave me a nod and walked away. Presumably to find Neria.

**Evening**

"Morrigan, do you have a minute?"

"That depends on why you choose to pester me."

"Can you see that?"

The witch gave me a put-upon look. "See what?"

I waved an arm around before finally giving up and pointing. "That!"

I was pointing almost due northeast at some kind of shimmering light. It looked like a dim but constant lightning flash, and the flickering was making me crazy. What was making me crazier was that I could see it through obstructions, and it looked like the same flashy lights I'd seen the last time I'd been in the Fade.

But now Morrigan was looking at me like I was crazy. "I see nothing."

"No, flickering light? Like a fire or something?"

"Nothing I said. Now leave-"

"I saw the same thing last night. When I was sleeping here, but in the Fade, too." Morrigan does know about my Fade thing, but I haven't told anybody about Thing or It.

But that got her attention. "Have you not spoken to Neria or Wynne about this?"

"Neria couldn't see anything either, and I can't find Wynne." I winced. "But I was wondering if you could…go…take a closer look."

It took her a precious second to recover her complete composure. "And how would I do that?"

I nodded at the feathers on her shoulder. "I'm ignorant but not stupid."

She held and caught my eyes and tried staring me down. Didn't work; she cracked first. "Why would I want to do this?"

Crap. "I'll take your next guard shift." Arg.

Morrigan considered that. "Tonight, then. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Where do I need to go?"

I pointed again. "That way. I don't know how far, though. Don't kill yourself for this, but…."

Morrigan frowned. "I am aware of my limitations." The frown softened. "But my thanks for the concern." The frown disappeared and her expression became business-like. "You may wish to turn around; some find the transformation…disturbing."

I didn't move. This was gonna be so cool.

"Turn around."

I rolled my eyes and nodded and turned around. I heard Morrigan inhale sharply. There was a sudden, quiet rush of air followed by a quiet avian squawk. I turned back; there was a raven standing on the ground where Morrigan had been. The bird flapped up to perch on a tent post.

Ravens are pretty interesting birds despite their bad rep. This was a perfect example of one, and was by far the closest I'd ever been to one. "Morrigan?" I'm sure I sounded like I was high, but I didn't care. "This is so cool." And then the ramifications of what she'd done started bubbling up. "Where did the extra mass go?" I stepped forward and reached out a hand. In all honesty I just wanted to see if she weighed as much as a raven (boy it was tempting to write 'duck' there), but Morrigan must have thought I had other ideas. "Ow!" I yanked my hand back as Morrigan's bite yanked me back to reality. "Sorry. But this is pretty cool."

She tilted her head at me. "Rahk."

"Safe travels."

* * *

><p>"Neria? Could I get a little help, please?" I held up my bloody finger.<p>

She stood up from where she was sitting. "What happened?"

"Morrigan bite."

I couldn't even read the expression on her face. Alistair snickered. "Just…take care of it, please." A quick flash of light and it was all better. "Thanks."

I turned towards my next destination. I heard Alistair say something and Neria giggled. That made the hurt finger totally worth it.

* * *

><p>"Kuso!" My arrow hit wider than usual.<p>

"How many languages can you swear in?" Leliana asked.

"At least ten." I readied another arrow.

The fight with Julian wrecked my crossbow beyond repair, so in the interest of broadening my skill set I'm giving bow archery another shot. But with the crossbow I can regularly get a hand's width shot group at 25 yards; I'm lucky to get a three-foot shot group with the bow.

I extended my arm, rough sighted, eased the arrow back until the nock touched my chin, and let out my breath. Slight adjustment to my aim and release. And another decent shot; on center but a bit high. "Arg! Why-"

"Don't move your feet!" Leliana came up behind me. "Ready another arrow and draw."

I did. Leliana stood directly behind me; she reached over and placed her right hand lightly on mine.

Her voice was soft and warm, but totally professional. "Release."

My thoughts were totally professional as well. Low and left. My swearing wasn't as professional.

She stayed where she was. "Again."

Low and not as much left.

"Again."

Way right. And no, I'm not moving my aim point around; I know better than that.

Leliana stepped away. "Give me the bow." I passed it over to her. She muttered something in Orlesian then switched back to Fereldan. She's not like Zevran with his Antivan; she only speaks Orlesian when she's wound up for some reason. "I do not think you are nocking at the same point." She produced a bit of ribbon that she started to tear down. It was going to be a keyboard nib. Good idea, but she mumbled in Orlesian again.

"We're both getting frustrated; maybe we should continue this another time."

"I am fine."

"No, you're not; you're swearing in Orlesian again, and you don't do that-"

"Unless I am frustrated. Very frustrated."

"So maybe we should-"

She looked up from where she was working. "I am not frustrated with you. I am frustrated with…_him_."

Her tone of voice left no doubt who she meant, but I decided to run with it. "Alistair?"

"No!"

"Sten?"

"Jeffrey."

"Cullen. He's driving Morrigan crazy, too. The other night he-"

"Jeffrey! You know who I mean." She tried to sound stern but wasn't pulling it off.

I looked around just to make sure he wasn't nearby. That was no guarantee, but I did what I could. "Didn't you agree to let him stay with us?"

"I did, but not because I like him." She waved me closer to her and dropped her voice. "I dreamt of him. He is seeking redemption, and the Maker made it clear that it was my choice of whether he would have the chance for it." She shook her head. "I could have denied him that opportunity, but…. No. We are more alike than I care to admit, him and me, and I have been given my opportunity." She sighed heavily and shook her head. "I could not deny him his chance. But merde!-" She fired off a string of Orlesian; I managed to catch 'homme' and 'ridicule', but that's about it, and I'm not even going to try to transcribe it. At least Zevran only throws the occasional Antivan into his speech.

"I take it you've got some issues with Zevran?"

More Orlesian.

"Feel better?"

"Oui. Yes." She laughed and finished tying off the bit of ribbon. "But you-"

"Me?"

"Yes, you!" It was said playfully. "You at least know when to flirt and when to be serious. Zevran, la petite merde-" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I could not have put my arm around him like I did with you. You are deserving of my trust; he is not. Not yet."

I gave her an exaggerated frown. "Oh. So I'm 'trustworthy.' And you think I'm supposed to be flattered by that." My tone was playful. I hope.

"You should be. You are delightfully rough around the edges, but at heart you are a gentleman."

"Really? You haven't seen me after a few drinks."

"Perhaps I should."

"Perhaps you shouldn't."

"Perhaps I should. At least any suggestions you make would be sincere. Zevran…. Well, Zevran's sincerity is suspect. At best."

I agreed with that, but wanted to back up. "Wait a minute. Did you just say you want me to get drunk and hit on- Uh, try to talk my way into your bed?" I felt a disturbance in the Force rumble through the multiverse. Or maybe that was my way of thinking it was a good thing my wife wasn't here to see this.

She gave me the same grin she'd given me after waking me up the other day. "That would be interesting." The grin faded as she shrugged. "But it would not be fair to you, for nothing would come of it."

"Oh, now I know I'm insulted." But again, I tried to keep my voice light.

"I am sorry. I did not mean it that way. But you see; although I am not bound by them my Chantry vows still call to me. I am simply not looking for a lover- Or anyone, for that matter, right now."

"'Ah! My heart; she wounds me!'"

Leliana nearly choked. "You do that so well! But you: you have a family to return to, no? You are not looking for... I suppose simple companionship is what you are seeking."

I dodged the worst of the mood swing. "You know that me getting home may not be an option, but you're right. I haven't even thought about- Well, I've thought about- Crap. You know what I mean. I'm satisfied with my status right now. But if it turns out I can't get home…."

"You can cross that bridge when you come to it, no?"

"Yes."

Leliana took on a mischievous look. Oy, here it comes. "And whose bridge would you like to cross?"

"Are you sure you're not taking deux entendre lessons from Zevran?" That's about the limit of my Orlesian.

She held her head up proudly. "I am not as innocent as I look! Now: the possibilities. Our pretty leader?"

I just crossed my arms and gave her a poker face.

She looked at me and tapped her lips. "No, she is a bit too young to know her heart yet. And Alistair has eyes for her, and you would not treat him so."

"I might if he stinks up our tent again."

Leliana smirked at me. "The witch? You do not seem to fear her, but you are a cautious man."

"And I like waking up in the morning."

"And having all your pieces when you wake up. At least I would hope so. No." Her face lit up. "The elder mage! She is of an age with you, and yet still has a figure." Leliana giggled; she was having way too much fun with this. But then, so was I, and she'd blown the sour mood away. "I believe Zevran described her bosom as 'magical'."

"You know, that one lady Templar we saw back at the Tower…. She had a look about her."

"The young one or the older one? But no matter; we will probably not return to the Tower anytime soon." She was biting her lip to keep from laughing. "No. Wynne it is. I shall start dropping hints to her at supper."

"Actually, I think we should try to get back to the Tower. Both those Templars were good looking, and I seem to recall a certain mage saying he thought you were magically delicious."

Leliana held it in for a few seconds then burst into laughter. That set me off. We never did get back to the bow.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I had a lot of fun writing the last couple of chapters, although they weren't as easy as they looked. It takes some time to get the dialogue down in such a way that it actually sounds like the appropriate character is speaking. This necessarily involved a lot of rewriting, but the basic ideas flowed pretty well. Part of my plan was to give the reader a decent idea of who is talking without constantly throwing in the speakers' names, and I hope it worked as well for you as I thought it did._

_One trick I use is to listen to the dialogue in my head using the character's voice. But for some stupid reason whenever I try to hear Leliana's dialogue in my head I give her a Russian accent._

_Some special thanks: The first goes to Shezka Foxe for the "man with experience" line in Chapter 34; it was too good not to use. Another goes to DoorbellSpider for the epic length review of Chapter 34. The third goes out to StrangeOneXD for reviewing most of the chapters during a marathon reading of the story so far. And the last goes to D-Ro2593 for allowing me to help inspire _**Tales of an Unlikely Mage**_. But hugs, kisses, cookies, and thanks to everybody out there!_


	36. Misconceptions

**23 Solace (day 36), morning**

Morrigan took her time getting back; she didn't show up until (dramatically enough) the sun hit the horizon. The rest of us had just sat down for supper when she came strolling up. She looked a bit wrung out, but I guess that was to be expected. What we didn't expect was what she said.

"We should keep a low fire and a closer watch tonight." She lifted a bowl of stew out of Zevran's hands and kept walking. "There are darkspawn about." She sat, heavily, on a rock well away from the elf and dug in without hesitation.

That got our attention. The last few days we'd gotten a bit complacent; the worst thing we had to deal with was the occasional wildlife sniffing around the camp. Well, Zevran, too, but his sniffing around was

Okay, don't have much time so let's stay on track.

Alistair exchanged a glance with Neria. "I don't sense anything." She shook her head back at him.

Morrigan didn't answer until she finished what she was chewing. "They are not nearby, but may be if they travel during the night." She took another bite without complaining. I guess she really was hungry; the stew was Alistair's.

Zevran spoke from where he was fetching a new bowl for himself. "We encountered some on our way to meet with you. Not many, but dangerous enough. We lost two of our group, not that it would have made a difference."

Sten and I spoke at the same time but stopped. I nodded to him and he continued. "In which direction are they travelling?"

Morrigan ate as she answered. "North. Northeast."

"Maker!" Alistair swore. "Levi, do you think they're headed for Soldier's Peak?"

The civilian looked nervous. "I don't know." He pointed roughly northeast. "We're probably less than a day from the tunnels, but if there's darkspawn there…."

"Map," I said flatly. "Draw it in the dirt if you have to."

It only took a moment to make a rough sketch of the area.

"This-" Levi pointed to it as he spoke. "-is the old road to Soldier's Peak. They used it-"

Sten and I spoke at the same time again. He deferred to me this time. "Is the road still open?"

"No. The bridges were destroyed during the Wardens' rebellion. That's why we need to go through the caves. They're here. The roads would be a lot easier, but only if the bridges are up."

I nodded to Sten. "Your turn."

"Are these caves near the road?"

Levi shook his head.

"I think if we go this way-" I drew a rough arc on the map. "-we can avoid the bulk of the darkspawn and make it to the caves. If we still want to go that way. Neria?"

"What do you think?"

"We've come this far, and we should be able to get there without too much trouble, but we could run into darkspawn. Sten, your thoughts?"

"I concur. If we are able to reach Soldier's Peak without attracting the attention of the darkspawn we should be able to leave in the same manner. There is an element of risk involved; however, there is always risk involved."

Alistair spoke up. "But if we stay off the road like Jeff suggests…. Morrigan, how many darkspawn did you see?"

"Perhaps two score, but in small groups, and scattered widely." She went back to eating.

"Okay," Neria said. "We'll head to Soldier's Peak tomorrow."

Okay, here's the problem. I don't know what happens at Soldier's Peak. I played the DLC once and vaguely remember a dungeon crawl interspersed with a lot of cut scenes. And the Warden(s) get a chance at some special abilities. The only thing I know for sure right now is that whatever that light I'm seeing is associated somehow with the Peak. Well, I've given the mages a heads up and they don't know what to make of it, although Wynne's theory is that it's a tear in the Veil. And that, according to Wynne, means demons. Arg.

**Mid-morning**

We moved the cart well off the road, hid it, and loaded up our packs. The thing's not built for cross-country travel anyway. But the horse is, so we piled some extra gear on his back. Now, normally I consider horses to be big, stupid, smelly beasts, but this one was a large, brown, sleepy looking, and, most importantly, laid-back draft horse. It didn't care about being in the middle of the ambush with Zevran, and when Neria flamed the bandit he didn't even flinch. And since hay burners are the primary means of non-leg transport around here I figured I needed to get used to them, and this particular model was a good one for a beginner.

So I'm leading him and trying to coax him across a small stream, but the horse decided he needed a drink first. One of the few things I know about horses is that you don't let them drink too much at once, so I tried to move him along. "Come on, Bill." Okay, it's not the most original name, but it's apropos.

Morrigan overheard me and stopped cold. "Bill?" she asked in that way that means she thinks the person she's talking to is a complete idiot.

"What should I have named him? Trigger? Argo? Celestia? _Binky_?"

Morrigan just stared at me for a moment. "I do not know which is the more vexing," she finally said, "your sense of humor or the elf's lechery." She turned and continued across the stream.

I watched her for a few seconds. "But what about my lechery?"

**Noon**

Ran into some darkspawn. Not many, maybe fifteen or so. (That sounds so blasé, doesn't it?) Anyway, the Wardens sensed them before they detected us; we set up a nice little ambush and let the mages take them down. A couple made it to the melee fighters, but we didn't even break a sweat.

I'm resisting the urge to tell Zevran that's the way it's supposed to be done.

**evening**

We reached the caves a couple hours ago. We'd hit a couple more small groups of darkspawn, but had zero trouble with them. Compliments to the mages. But I am worried about what might happen if we hit a larger group. Well, a much larger group. At least in the caves we'll have a narrow front to defend. But if something goes badly wrong it'll be that much tougher to get back out.

The plan was to get into the caves and hunker down here for the night, but we've got a couple of problems. First, the Wardens can sense darkspawn in the area. No big deal, really; there aren't too many of them and we'll know if they approach. But that means Alistair and Neria go on short sleep shifts tonight and probably won't be at their best tomorrow.

But second were the horses. I was told that taking a horse into a cave isn't really a good idea. Even into a cave with a smooth floor and a relatively high ceiling. Levi was willing to leave his horse behind, but I had other ideas regarding ours.

"We can't leave Bill behind," I said. "I mean, he'd be sad if the darkspawn or something else ate him. And so would I."

"Bill?" Alistair asked. "You named the horse Bill? When did this happen?"

"This morning. Unless he has another name. Zevran?"

The elf gave me a grin. "No. No name for the horse. Not until now, at least."

"Bill it is then. I mean, he looks like a Bill." I looked around at the group. Everybody except Neria was giving me a strange look.

"I think Bill's a fine name," she said, but kind of carefully.

Wynne smiled gently at her. "Bill is a mare, dear."

"Oh!"

Alistair gave me an 'I know something you didn't!' look.

"Are you sure?" I started to ask but cut myself off.

Too late. Alistair pounced. "Well, I did spend a significant portion of my childhood in a stable, although, to be fair, I was raised by dogs, so I could be mistaken. Let's see." He approached Bill, gave her a pat on the flank, and lifted her tail. "No, I'm pretty sure Bill is a…what's the word? Girl horse! Yes, that's it. See? No dangly bits." He held up Bill's tail. "You don't get a long, luxurious tail like this on a gelding, you know." He walked up to the head. "And this face. Definitely female. I mean, the eyelashes, they're so…. They're so…. Help me out, Wynne."

Wynne was enjoying this way too much. "Feminine?"

"Yes! That's the word. Feminine."

"Hello! City boy here!"

Alistair clapped me on the shoulder. "Yes, you are, my friend."

Neria came to my rescue. Well, she tried. "Bill is a _fine_ name."

"A fine name for a _boy_ horse."

I'm gonna leave things at that because this is my journal and I have no interest in embarrassing myself any further.

**24 Solace (day 27), morning (probably)**

Dealt with a few darkspawn overnight, but the biggest group was a foursome. None of us got to sleep very well except, ironically enough, Alistair and Neria. We insisted they get some sleep while the rest of us took turns dealing with the darkspawn. So now we're, as a group, kind of grouchy despite the giant pot of nasty not quite not tea the mages heated up for us.

Levi wasn't kidding; these caves are a maze. It's probably only a couple miles straight line from where we entered, but the curves at least doubled that. We hadn't gone twenty feet in before the path split. Levi took us to the right, but that's the last turn I remember for sure. We did think to mark the walls with some charcoal, but it's super easy to get lost in here. I was tempted to line out some graph paper and try mapping it, but that idea faded quickly. OTOH, when we came to a junction I'd record the mark and just drew lines to the connecting junctions, _Thief_-style. Crude, but it worked, and saved us from backtracking a couple of times.

The caves themselves appear to be partly man made. Or, more likely, dwarven made. The ceilings are fairly high once you get past the entrance, but a lot of those ceilings show signs of being worked. The passages are generally wide enough for two or three to walk side by side, but if they need to start swinging swords elbows'll get bumped pretty quickly. The floors were either sandy or smooth stone; again, better than expected. Levi's horse didn't have any trouble moving about, but the larger Bill had to duck her head frequently. So did Sten. I was really curious to ask Levi if he knew who'd worked the passages, but he was at the front of the group; Bill and I were bringing up the rear.

The why's obvious. All the passages were worked so the obvious route through isn't clear. Cut the main road and any attacking force has to figure out a way through these caves without heavy equipment while being ambushed all the way. Or an escaping force can get out with mounts and supplies while the attackers get bogged down on the road. Then I had a chilling thought: could these passages be flooded?

I must have mumbled something to myself because Zevran looked back at me. "Something wrong?" But before I could answer he spoke again. "Si. A horrible place through which to attack."

"I was wondering if the defenders could flood it."

Zevran suddenly looked worried, but his face cleared quickly. "No defenders right now. I hope. And if there are; well, there is little we can do about it, si?"

**later**

I'm holding back on rear guard with Wynne, Leliana, and the horses. Levi's turned around again, so the others split into two groups and are scouting ahead.

But a few minutes ago I heard a sound I didn't want to hear. It was that growling, purring, "hurr hurr" darkspawn make when they've found something interesting. That is, something to kill and/or eat. Wynne immediately summoned a ball of power to her hand and raised the glowing end of her staff higher; Leliana nocked an arrow. I pulled out my beat up blade and stepped towards the noise. A hurlock stepped out of the shadows; it was wearing rags and carrying one of those sharpened crowbars they use for swords.

I heard Leliana's bow flex, but I felt something rise up inside me. The little voice in the back of my head was telling me I could take a single darkspawn. I hoped it knew what it was talking about. I held out my sword hand towards Leliana. "Wait," I said. "I've got his." I started forward, thought for a second, and added, "But cover me. You know, just in case."

Leliana sounded worried as she answered. "Jeffrey, are you sure?"

Too late; I'd already moved in to engage the thing.

The hurlock laughed again as I eased forward. I brought my shield and sword up as it raised its own weapon; we covered the last few steps between us with a fast walk. It raised its sword higher and brought it down at me with a two-handed slashing blow. I caught the bar on the sturdy Templar shield; I didn't deflect it cleanly and felt the shot up through my shoulder. But I wasn't hurt. I stepped in with my right foot and rotated my hips; I used the momentum to punch the Hurlock in the face with my gauntleted sword hand. It was trying to raise its blade again but ended up being staggered backwards. I pulled my sword hand back along with my right foot then stepped forward again. I used the step to power a thrust that caught the hurlock cleanly in the chest. I was over-extended, but the hurlock didn't care. It stepped back, bleeding from the wound, as I recovered. I stepped in with another thrust that caught it in the throat. Blood gushed out of both wounds as I pulled my sword back. The hurlock stepped sideways then collapsed.

"Nicely done," Leliana said. I think she was as surprised as I was.

"Very nicely done," Wynne added.

Levi's horse was snorting quietly, but Bill didn't have anything to say.

"Thanks."

I ran a quick after-action-review in my head. First, I'd been totally businesslike. I didn't do anything fancy; I didn't try to show off. I just took the thing down the way Alistair had shown me. Yeah, I could have done it better, but no complaints with what I did do. Second, I was ready for an add. I didn't jump, fist-pump, or even say "Yes!" I just gave myself an internal pat on the back and got prepped for anymore bad guys that might show. Third, when did I level up? Oh, well. Don't get cocky. I nodded to myself and wiped my sword as clean as I could on the hurlock's rags.

When Alistair's team got back Leliana spoke to him quietly and he came over to me.

He took a look at the hurlock. "Good work there."

"Good teacher," I said, and held up my fist.

He looked surprised, but gave me a fist bump in return. (That's something else I've taught him. And I think he's about ready for high fives.) "Really?"

"Really. Thanks."

The surprise turned into a grin and a blush. "Glad I could be of help."

Morrigan wrecked the moment. "Perhaps the two of you should join hands and skip off happily into the sunset together."

**late evening**

We finally broke out into the afternoon sunlight, but the canyon we were in was still in the shade. And, yes, there was a small but steady trickle of water flowing along the trail. We still had a good distance to hike to even bring the fortress into view, but before we moved out I called a halt.

"Ladies," I said to the mages, "please don't tell me you can't see that." I pointed directly at the pale yellow-white light I could see ahead; it was flickering like a bad florescent tube. Unfortunately, I was pointing through the mountain.

"I cannot."

"I'm sorry, but no."

"I don't see anything."

I sighed, rubbed my eyes, and frowned. "Wynne, you said you think it's a tear in the Veil, right?" She nodded. "Can you feel anything?"

"A moment." She closed her eyes and tilted her head as if she were listening to something. Her head began turning slowly and a questioning look appeared on her face. A hand lifted, palm forward, and slowly aimed at the light that, apparently, only I could see. "There. Neria, Morrigan can you-"

"I could feel it from the tunnels," Morrigan said. "But then, Mother ensured I was attuned to the Fade from an early age. And yes, I believe there is a tear in the Veil." She turned to look at me; she held my eyes for an instant, but didn't see the answers she was looking for. If they were there in the first place.

Neria was standing with her hand out. "I can't feel it."

"It takes practice."

Alistair cleared his throat. Loudly.

"Sorry."

"No, you don't understand. I'm sensing darkspawn somewhere up ahead. Not many, I think, but they're not too far away."

Well, that complicated things, but first things first.

I always thought Levi's tagging along was a stupid idea. I mean, why not just leave him outside and give him the grand tour once everything's done? Well, if there's darkspawn in the tunnels behind us and a torn Veil animating corpses then leaving an inadequately armed civilian behind is just begging for collateral damage. And since we're here at his behest I suppose we should try to keep him safe. It wasn't easy, though.

The path we were on brought us out off the side of the keep, but it was directly under a couple of turrets. We didn't have a good look at the main keep yet, but the walls looked sturdy enough all the way round to the front. The only evidence of weakness was an open but barred port about twenty feet up the wall in front of us. Water feeding the stream was trickling out at a steady rate. At the front of the keep I called another halt.

"Right there!" I said. I pointed to the top of the stairs leading to the portcullis.

"I can feel it now, too," Alistair added.

"Levi, perhaps you should wait here for a moment." Neria looked to me. "Let him take Bill."

I passed the leads to Levi and moved up to Alistair and Sten. We took our normal formation and eased our way up the steps. "Alistair, you can feel that?"

"Templar training," he said. "We can tell if the Veil is weak. I'm not as sensitive as some, though…."

"Well, I think I'm _seeing_ it. There's a weird glowey, flashy light right here. And a few more scattered around, but there's a really bright one right over there." Again, all I could do was point towards the main keep.

Neria stepped up behind me. "I can feel it now. Levi! Come on up!"

"Alistair," I asked, "what about the darkspawn?"

He pointed up towards the fortress. "We're closer, and I'm pretty sure they're in the keep. But only a handful."

"I can't sense them at all," Neria said, "but the Veil is making my head itch. Just…tell us if they start moving."

"Will do."

I still couldn't remember exactly what we were supposed to be facing but throwing darkspawn in couldn't be good. As a group we stepped forward again, but there was a sudden slow flash of light and I saw a group of armed men in front me.

"…we'll starve them out!" one of them was saying.

"But, ser, they've got rations for months!"

"Doesn't matter! They'll run out and eventually be too weak to lift their swords. When that happens we'll send them to their final judgment!"

The second man started to speak again but his voice faded in time with the flash. And we were suddenly looking at each other.

"Vashedan!"

"Maker's breath!"

"This place is supposed to be haunted." Levi's voice was shaky.

"And the Veil is thin here." Wynne sounded a little shaky herself.

"I have heard tales of this," Leliana said. She sounded more curious than anything else. "Of heroes trapped in dreams and only able to relive moments of their lives. I wonder if this is the same thing.

"Can we do anything to repair the Veil?" Neria asked.

"Possibly," Wynne answered, "but not from here. I think this is just…an echo of the real tear. I think whatever Jeff's seeing is what we're feeling as the tear."

We looked around at each other again, kind of collectively shrugged, and moved forward a few steps.

"Wait!" I called again.

"Maker, Jeff! Now what?"

I pointed directly ahead towards another set of stairs. "Does anything look strange to you?" Now I was starting to remember some stuff.

"I think those are…corpses?"

"That is strange." Zevran stepped forward, but only took a couple steps past the front line. "Corpses shouldn't last that long; we should be seeing only bones, if anything at all."

I nodded. "That's what I was thinking." I eased out of my pack and continued. "Neria, do you think you can throw a blizzard or a fireball over there?"

She stepped up next to me. "I think that would be a very good idea." The wind up, the pitch, and boom! The fire exploded on the stairs, engulfing the three corpses we could see there. Not a bad start.

"Tethas! To our left!"

I started to turn to look but a movement from in front of me caught my eye. The grass was fairly deep where I was standing; deep enough to conceal more corpses. I saw at least half a dozen rise up in a semi-circle to our front.

"More over there!" Leliana called, but I wasn't sure where she was talking about.

"Which way?" Alistair called.

"With me!" I snapped.

One of the corpses erupted into flames and staggered away burning. Another came at me swinging a short but heavy sword. The one directly behind it was suddenly flash-frozen. I heard Cullen let out a moaning growl (that sound still raises the hairs on my neck) and Leliana's bow thrummed. I caught the one coming at me the same way I caught the hurlock, but before I could move in it brought its sword around again. I caught the swing squarely on the shield and replied with a heavy blow that broke the corpse's arm. I shoved it away, and when it came at me again, hissing as it did, I was ready with a headshot thrust. The corpse stopped moving and collapsed and took my sword down with it. I looked around while trying to retrieve it and decided Alistair needed my help the most. But I couldn't get my sword loose, so I did the fullback thing. Alistair had been slowly backing up and giving ground to a pair of the corpses; I sent them both sprawling with a shield rush. Alistair took care of one while I kicked and bashed the second to keep it on the ground.

"Back up!" Alistair shouted at me. I did, and he stabbed the thing through the back as it crawled after me. It kept coming.

"In the head!" I shouted.

Crunch! I know it sounds cheesy but that's what I heard. Alistair's swing stove in the skull and the zombie gave up. "That way!" He pointed behind me. I turned around.

Sten wasn't having any trouble; that zwiehander he carries simply dismembered his targets, and with nobody next to him he using it to full effect. But Zevran had tried what was probably his usual tactics; these things weren't going down to daggers unless they took a head shot. He was bleeding from a wound somewhere, and although he was still up and moving, it was without his usual grace. But the monsters on our side of the fight were gone, and the mages had their attention over there. Wynne suddenly grunted and I saw a flash of healing energy envelope Zevran. He staggered briefly, but rolled himself away from the fight without being hit again. Three mages can take down targets fast; the ladies did their job again, and the fight was suddenly over. Alistair hadn't even had time to get to Sten.

Wynne was taking a knee and breathing heavily, so I trotted over to her. I could see a long rip in her sleeve, but aside from some blood stains she seemed unhurt. But still…. "Wynne! You okay?"

She looked back me groggily. "Shouldn't have healed Zevran from this far away. I'll be fine, though."

"Neria!"

"In a moment!"

Leliana suddenly appeared next to us, bow out and an arrow ready. "Wynne, are you-"

"I will be fine, dear."

"Can you watch her? I've gotta get my sword."

"Go!"

I trotted over to the deanimated corpse and grabbed the weapon. It didn't come loose with a simple tug; I ended up having to brace my foot against the head and finally pulled it loose with a metal-on-bone scrape. When I turned around Wynne was standing again, but leaning heavily against Leliana. I swore and jogged back over to her.

"Wynne, you are not okay."

"Jeffrey, hold her for a moment, please."

I know you shouldn't treat a sword like that, but my first instinct was to stab it into the ground. (Alistair yelled at me about later.) "Come here," I said to Wynne and pulled her towards me. She was pale and her eyelids were fluttering. "Wynne, what happened?"

"One of the…creatures slashed her arm. I saw her heal herself-"

"I shouldn't have done that," Wynne slurred. "Takes too much-"

"Neria, now! Wynne, we're going to sit down now, okay?" I eased her to the ground as best I could; another set of hands ended up helping me.

Neria was leaning over the older mage. "Wynne! Are you hurt?"

Leliana responded. "I do not think so; not anymore."

"Just…need to rest."

Neria summoned a ball of what I now knew was restorative energy and pushed it into Wynne's chest. The older mage groaned as the color came back to her face, but the worst of the episode seemed to be over.

"Wynne, you know better than that."

"Oh, I do, but I had little choice."

"One of the creatures; it came from behind us." That's when I noticed Leliana was favoring her leg.

Neria didn't notice because she was fussing over Wynne. "Oh, Maker! Your arm!"

"Little choice, as she told you."

"I'll be fine, dear-"

"Wynne." Neria had that same scolding tone in her voice that Wynne gets. I couldn't help but smile at it.

"Wynne! Your bosom! I pray it is not-"

At least three voices besides mine told Zevran to shut up.


	37. Room by Room, Part IV

Neria carefully worked on Wynne while Morrigan touched up the dings on the rest of us, including Leliana's badly bruised leg. But Wynne, for practical purposes, was out of the fight. She'd received a nasty slash that opened her arm deep, and she'd taking the desperate step of healing herself. She'd come through that well enough, but Zevran was hurt and in trouble, so she took the second desperate step of healing him from across a distance.

She's sleeping now, comfortably it seems, but I'd sat and talked with her for a while. It seems that pulling healing energy from the Fade and concentrating it takes some power from the caster. And healing someone draws not only on the caster's stamina, but also on the target's metabolism. Usually it's not much, but the worse the wound, the more energy it takes to heal. So by healing herself Wynne was drawing on her own stamina to provide energy for her self-healing, which in turn drew on her mana flow to give

tl;dr – Wynne short-circuited herself

The thing with Zevran was more understandable: pushing magic directly into a target runs up against the inverse-square law. Wynne said that Zevran's wounds would have been trivial to deal with (for her at least) had she been able to touch him. From the distance she was at it took everything she had left to just patch him up.

As for Zevran himself: he'd done his usual thing but a zombie doesn't react to daggers in its kidneys. By the time he'd figured out his normal tactics weren't working he'd taken a couple of nasty cuts himself. And his armor had probably saved his life at the cost of a long slash in it.

Anyway….

Wynne was out of the fight. We didn't want to take her into the keep, especially with what we were expecting to find, but we couldn't just leave her behind, either. But then Zevran stepped up.

"I will remain with her. After all, it is my fault she so overexerted herself. And my skills: they are better suited to a more subtle challenge than I believe this place will offer."

Wynne struggled to sit up. "Oh, Maker! No! Not him!"

Zevran bowed to her. "Ah, madre bella! I'm hurt; do you not trust me?"

She glared at him and spoke. "I'd rather have the dog stay with me. At least he won't constantly speculate on the condition of my…." She trailed off as she realized what she was saying.

"But they are indeed ow!" Zevran rubbed his side and gave Leliana a sour look. "That was uncalled for."

"Oh, I think not."

"Wynne, how about I leave Cullen here, too? He'd be a good chap-" Neria suddenly stopped as she realized what she was saying.

"I think what Neria's trying to say," I said, "is that Cullen can come get us if something happens that the three of you can't handle on your own."

Zevran bowed to me. "Very well put; very diplomatic, mio amico."

Neria looked back to Wynne. "Wynne?"

Wynne just glared at Zevran.

Zevran dodged another elbow from Leliana, but appeared defeated. "So be it. Wynne, I promise that I shall not speak of your bosom until we rejoin the group. This I swear."

Wynne continued glaring at Zevran. "Fine," she finally said.

"Cullen, you take good care of Wynne," Neria said. "Zevran, you, too."

"I will be honored to safeguard the lovely senora in the company of such a fine warhound."

[suspicious moan]

I just shook my head and let the insanity wash through. For a change it wasn't mine.

* * *

><p>Alistair leaned over to me as we eyeballed the next set of stairs. "Do you think that's a good idea? Leaving Zevran with Wynne?" I don't blame him for his suspicion, but still….<p>

"As good as any. Cullen's there, and if Zevran does let something happen to her-"

"Not let something happen to her, but does something to her?"

Neria came up behind us and made us both jump. "Cullen's there, and I told Zevran I'd peel his skin off if Wynne's not well when we get back. Now hurry up!"

We both watched her trot up the steps. Alistair grumbled something about metal armor and climbing; I shared the sentiment.

"You heard her; Wynne will be fine, if annoyed," Leliana said as she came up behind. There was an amused lilt to her voice. "Hurry up!"

We watched her trot up the steps, but appreciated the view more. Leathers versus robes, you know. I looked over at Alistair; he suddenly blushed. "Enjoy the view?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, I am certain he did."

Alistair turned redder. "I was not-"

"You certainly were. Now, up the stairs!"

"Uhm, you first."

"And allow the two of you to gawk at me?"

My turn. "Oh, it's not like we don't anyway."

Morrigan narrowed her eyes at me, then turned and ran up the steps. We didn't get much of a view. I grinned and took the first step, but Alistair stopped me.

"I think I might need a push." At the look I gave him he continued. "Or least someone to keep me from falling over backwards." At my continued look he kept going. "I'm wearing the leggings, and it's built for good posture, not…." He nodded at the steps.

"So wait. You've been-" I was about to finish with, 'going commando?' but Alistair interrupted me.

"Well, you can't tell anything under the skirt. And it's a lot easier to travel that way. And, er, do other things."

That explained why Alistair was moving like he had a stick up his ass. And how he was able to visit the little Templar's bush so quickly while on the march. And all the handrails by the steps in the Tower. I laughed and Alistair gave me a sour look. "Sten. Little help here…."

* * *

><p>"Those flashy lights; there's another one right there," I said. I pointed to the main entrance which consisted of two doors that looked heavier than the ones at the Circle Tower. Well, they used to be heavier. The left one was gray and weather-scarred and had plenty of popped nails. The right wasn't in any better shape, but it was swung open a bit and hanging off only one hinge. "Just inside the doors, I think."<p>

"Fire in the hole!" Neria called. She wound up and threw a fireball through the opening. It erupted noisily, but didn't blow back out through the door. Nothing came rushing out at us either except for a few angry birds, but the light flickered away.

"You could have waited," Alistair said.

Sten finished the climb. "That would have been prudent."

Neria ignored both of them. "I don't feel it anymore; just the strong one. What about you, Jeff?"

"This one's gone, but there's some more further on. Levi, come on up!"

The civilian poked his head up. "It's safe?"

"Safe enough," Sten grumbled.

Alistair and I gave each other the look that we'd decided meant 'you first.' We shrugged and shot evens.

"Good luck," he said.

"Here, Neria, hold these." I handed her my glasses (don't know why; just had a feeling), pulled up the coif, and stuck my head in the door. Nothing clawed my face or any other part off, so I eased a little further through the doorway. No bodies that I could see, nor much of anything interesting. I tried pushing against the open door, but couldn't budge it. The other door's secured with bolts going into the floor and ceiling, but neither bolt is gonna move without some oil and a hammer. Not much else to say about the room; Neria's fireball had scorched a few flammable items (including some slow and/or unlucky birds), but that's it. I kept my eye on the room but called back to the group. "Looks safe."

I eased in with the group right behind me. Not much to see: a few old weapons scattered about, some statues on the wall, and a bird shit covered rug in the middle.

Sten broke the silence. "Not particularly inspiring."

* * *

><p>"Maker!" Alistair yanked the door closed just as a fireball (a heavy duty one; the kind Neria likes) exploded on it. The blast didn't make it through the door, but the old wood wasn't going to hold very long. "Demons!"<p>

There was a bang as something hit the door from the other side and forced it all the way shut. Alistair and I took up our standard door-holding position and hunkered down in tank mode when something else hit the weakened door and burst it outwards. I saw stars for an instant but recovered as a glowing hand reached through the ruined door and grabbed my shield. It pulled the shield away from me but I didn't give it a chance to pull me after it; I took an overhand swing that connected solidly. The demon hissed and yanked its arm back; I stumbled backwards.

Sten stepped into my place and thrust his sword directly through the hole in the door. I heard a squealing hiss as another fireball exploded. Sten was shoved away from the door into me. Between him and the blast wave I ended up on my back looking directly at a bird's nest tucked into a rafter.

"Stay down!" Morrigan shouted.

No problem. Sten was lying across my legs; I wasn't going anywhere yet. Morrigan's staff appeared over me followed by its owner. Morrigan _oofed_ as it impacted something and I let out a sigh of relief as Sten rolled off my legs. I tried to roll away from Morrigan but something else grabbed me on the shoulders.

"Are you hurt?" Leliana half-shouted.

Good thing she announced herself; I was about to take a swing at her. "No! Help me up!"

"Down!" Alistair yelled.

I had no idea what he meant, so I froze. A burst of fire (exploding demon) washed over us; Leliana yelped softly and I gasped.

Neria yelled, "Get the caster!" and sent something downrange. A blaster bolt of red energy came right back her and sent her to the ground with a cry of pain.

"Help Neria!" I yelled at Leliana, but she pulled me to my feet first. I looked around. Morrigan had some kind of shield up over herself. Alistair was nowhere to be seen. Sten was on the ground, unmoving. "Shit! I'm gonna die!" I muttered and charged through the now open door. As I did I saw Alistair closing with the abomination? Demon? (I found out later they're called arcane horrors or death mages.) He set off one his Templar shockwaves and the horror staggered backwards. Alistair repeated the shockwave as he stepped into the monster and slammed it into the wall with his shield. His sword came up with beautifully timed and angled thrust; it caught the demon under the chin and came out the back of its head. Alistair recovered, backed away, and raised his shield. There was a burst of fire then room was instantly plunged into darkness except for the bit of light coming through the door.

"Alistair, you okay?"

"I'm fine. How's everybody else?"

"Neria and Sten are down."

"I'm well," Neria groaned. She was sitting up and looking pained. Whatever had hit her didn't leave a visible mark, but she grimaced as Leliana helped her to her feet. "How's Sten?"

"He is but paralyzed. He should be fine in a moment," Morrigan said.

Alistair came up beside me. "What in Andraste's name happened?"

"That thing you killed. I think it blew the door out."

"So that's what hit me."

We stepped into the light and I turned to look at him. His helmet had a nice ding in it. "You're gonna-"

"Sweet Andraste, Jeff!"

"What?"

"Oh, Maker! Jeffrey!" Leliana had been fussing over Neria, but suddenly hopped over to me. "Morrigan!"

"Wha-" I started. "Crap. How bad is it?" My head was a little sore, but the way everyone was acting had me worried.

Morrigan stepped up with a scowl. "You truly did not notice the blood running down the side of your head?"

As she healed me I heard Levi's shaky voice. "I think I'll wait with the others. Outside. Where it's safe."

* * *

><p>"You've never heard of glowstones? Firestones?"<p>

"I don't think so."

Alistair reached into the dead fireplace and tossed me a smoothly polished rock the size of a softball and the color of cast iron. "You heat'em in a fire and they'll glow all night. The dwarves make them, and they sell them dearly. And there's a handful here."

Neria walked up next to me. Her staff was glowing a bit too brightly. "What's in there?" She pointed to a nearby door.

I tossed the stone back to Alistair, who put it back in the fireplace. "Let's find out."

* * *

><p>"Well, that went <em>much<em> better," Alistair said. He stared at the arrow sticking out of his armor.

"Well, after seeing that I think you're either a lot braver or a lot stupider than I thought you were." The knucklehead had gone directly after three undead archers and got pin cushioned for his trouble.

"It's bravery. That's why it only hurts when I breathe." Fortunately for him only one of the arrows actually did any real damage.

Neria was checking the wound impatiently. "Stop talking and hold still!"

"Shall I fetch the older boss seraboss?"

"No, I think we can handle this."

Morrigan lightly grasped the arrow's shaft. "We shall pull it out on a count of three." Also fortunate: the arrow wasn't a broadhead.

"Jeff, what's one of those swears you use?"

I picked one at random. "Gorram."

"What does that mean, anyway?"

"Stop talking!"

"I…don't know, exactly."

"One-"

"Ah! Andraste's! Flaming! Flaming! Gorram! Knickers! What happened to two and three?"

Morrigan examined the blood-tipped arrow she was holding. "I was not aware you could count that high."

* * *

><p>Sten examined the keep's water supply. Water bubbles up and falls into a farmhouse-style sink, which in turn drains into a trough. The trough runs a few feet along the wall, and drains out through a pipe. Everything was clean. "It appears this fortress was built upon a spring. A wise decision; fresh water is a precious commodity during a siege."<p>

"Uh, folks?" I said. "We might have a problem."

Leliana saw it, too. "These bottles. They are set up to drain."

"And the table's been cleaned. Somebody's using this room."

"Or something."

Morrigan looked around suspiciously. "I am not aware of any 'something' that needs a supply of fresh water. And washes out its bottles."

Sten had returned to the door and was watching the hallway. "Darkspawn, perhaps? You said you felt them."

Alistair shook his head. "I doubt it. There'd be signs of Taint about. I'm not sure what's going on."

"Well, whatever it is," I said as I reached for a metaphorical pair of sunglasses, "it appears to have…_piqued_ our interest."

I got strange looks from almost everybody. But Morrigan rolled her eyes, and Leliana gave me a mean stare. "I promise you will pay for that."

* * *

><p>"Don't touch that book" I could see flickering lights around the large book on the floor, next to where we'd taken the last demon down. The thing hadn't moved more than a few feet from where the book was, even when the mages started casting at it. And then, instead of exploding like the others, it just fizzled out in a handful of sparks.<p>

Morrigan knelt down next to Neria and just looked at the tome. "It is touching the Fade somehow. I do not know how safe it would be for us to handle."

"Then let us not bother it."

"T'would be a prudent course. Once the tear has been dealt with we may be able to examine it at leisure."

Neria spoke up. "But most of the words are burned. I can't make anything out."

"Paper's a good insulator," I said. "We should be able to read the earlier entries. But then, when we were outside, we just had a vision." I shrugged. "Your call."

"But the tear is very close," Morrigan put in.

Neria stood up. "Let's leave it for now."

We geared back up and headed for a flight of stairs, but Leliana pulled me aside. "I thought I had told you to never speak again."

"I said I was sorry!"

* * *

><p>We were getting close to the tear, but there was another problem.<p>

Alistair pushed open the door at the top of the stairs, but didn't go through. "That opened way too easily." He pulled it closed again and motioned us back down the steps.

No creaking from the steps either. The dots weren't hard to connect. "Okay, there's somebody living here," I said.

"'Tis the only logical explanation."

"But with the demons?" Neria asked. "Who would walk through a room full of demons to get water?"

That was the wrong question. "Who could walk through a room full of demons just to get water?"

Neria gave me a thoughtful look. "An abomination?"

"Would an abomination need water? What about…." Ding. Now I thought I remembered. "A mage?"

"'Twould have to be a powerful one."

Neria shook her head. "Maybe a blood mage. That wouldn't be good."

"We are a formidable group. A single boss seraboss is unlikely to pose a significant challenge to us."

"A single blood mage could." Alistair looked grim. "Duncan once told me about a blood mage taking down a group of Templars."

"He told me that same story," Neria said, "right before he- Right before he recruited me."

Alistair didn't miss that but didn't respond to it, either. "But the point is a single blood mage can be dangerous to even a prepared group."

Leliana spoke up. "Perhaps if we approached him in a friendly manner…."

"I don't know. If I were a blood mage and a group of heavily armed people led by a Templar knocked at my door I don't think I'd care how friendly they were acting."

Morrigan gave Leliana that look. "I have a rare moment of agreement with him. 'A friendly manner' is a naïve thought at best."

"Morrigan!"

"'Tis true! We would be better served by having your Mabari take him an invitation for tea in the courtyard."

Leliana's voice hardened. "I was but making a suggestion."

"Then make one that is actually useful."

"Then what-"

Neria physically jumped in between the two. "Enough! Both of you! Morrigan! Do you have any _useful_ suggestions about this blood mage?"

Morrigan stared back at Neria for a bit. "At this time, no."

Neria just stared at Morrigan for a little while. The witch returned the stare impassively. "Fine," Neria finally said. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Another vision: this time of a dark-haired woman in heavy armor. She cut down a man attacking her, then called to her troops. "We hold here! Make them pay for every inch!" This was Warden Commander Dryden. "Avernus!"<p>

A mage was chanting. When his voice stopped a demon stepped through a portal into this world's past. The mage pointed, and the demon glided towards the attackers, but that wasn't enough to slow the assault.

"Avernus! We need more!"

The mage chanted in what sounded like Latin; Tevinter, maybe, and another demon crawled through realities. But this one didn't listen to its summoner; it turned and flung a young woman into a wall. Her head was crushed instantly. The demon turned and spoke to Avernus. "Blood," it chuckled. "For that I thank you." It reached behind itself and the world twisted; more demons began stepping through.

Avernus backed away. "Initiates! We are lost! Retreat to the tower." He turned and ran.

The Warden Commander spun about, her eyes wild. She shouted something, but it was lost as the past echoed away.

The flashing light that was the tear in the Veil began to strobe; closing my eyes didn't help. Turning away didn't either; it was like having a disco ball in the back of my head. "Something's happening! Probably bad!" Sorry about the Captain Obvious thing.

"I know!" Morrigan's voice was strained.

"Tethas!"

"I am ready, Sten, but the others-"

The lightless flashing stopped just as a resonant voice began speaking. "Oh, yes. There will be blood."

The light faded from my head and I, along with everybody else, turned to look at the speaker; it was a huge demon that looked as if it were made of cooling lava. It was mostly black and crusted, but there was that same glowing red peeking through the splits in its hide. It was bigger than the other demons we'd faced; it looked a bit taller than Sten. It hissed with pleasure (or maybe anticipation), and eased forward.

"Okay, we can handle this," I thought. Guys up front; the ladies in the back. (Interesting how that worked out.) It might get rough for the line, but Neria knows what's she's doing when it comes to healing. And wrecking things, too.

Alistair and I raised our shields. Leliana's bow thrummed but the arrow just took a small chip of rock off the thing. One of the mages wordlessly shouted with effort and there was a blast of cold centered on the creature. The cracks in the rock disappeared; the entire demon was a mass of cold rock and ice.

"Aside!"

Sten's voice rang from right beside me and I sensed he was coming through no matter what. I stepped into Alistair; the big guy was taking a lumberjack chop at the demon. Sten's blade smashed into the rock and shattered the area that he'd hit. Alistair and I got the hint and took our own heavy swings. More brittle, frozen rock shattered off the demon and exposed its molten body.

I'd just begun to think we weren't gonna have a problem when the demon rumbled. "You dare?" It flexed and chunks of rock split away from it. One of its arms broke free and flailed at me. I caught it square on the shield; the impact made my fillings rattle. "Aid me!" The mental disco ball flared again; I closed my eyes out of reflex and stepped back.

Sten gave another shout and I heard his sword impact again. The fade light faded just as I heard Leliana shout, "Adds ahead!" (Yeah, I've taught them that.) My thoughts at the time were _a) things are going tits up faster than usual; b) I hope we can still handle this._ Another burst of ice from the mages froze the demon for a few seconds, but Sten suddenly wasn't there to take advantage of it. Alistair and I did what we could, but we were just nickel-and-diming the thing and getting pushed backwards at the same time. OTOH, Leliana's bow was working overtime and the mages were alternately working on the demon and popping quick heals into me and Alistair. At that point it was a question of which side would run down first.

When the demon suddenly started backing up I had sudden flash of hope that it was running down, but that went away when there was another lightless flash. I wasn't ready for this one, either, but I didn't close my eyes. Just like in the vision demons began stepping through the tear. Sten hacked at one as it materialized, but decided coming back to the line was the better idea.

"Drink this!" A hand held a vial up to my mouth; I don't know whose it was, but I tilted my head back so it could pour the potion in. I sputtered but got most of it down. All the pain disappeared and I felt warm and sleepy until the big demon came at us again. Then it was more pounding, beating, bruising, and a very loud curse from me at one point. One of the demons reached past my shield and caught my mail. The repair job I'd been working on for the last week was ripped apart in a shower of broken links. That actually ticked me off more than the slashes I received across my front. Still hurt like hell, though. Even more than the backhand I took from the big one that slammed me into the floor.

I didn't have time to worry about getting up. Somebody grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out of the fight. "Are you well, mio amico?"

"Zev-?"

"Wynne!"

Wynne suddenly appeared in front of me and, without hesitating, ran her hands along my torso. Most of the pain disappeared, Zevran pushed me to my feet, and I dived back in, albeit a little more carefully.

Having Wynne there turned the fight in our favor. She didn't add much firepower, but she did take the healing duties away from Neria who in turn put her destructive tendencies to good use. She kept the big demon slowed so we were able to nibble away at it. While Sten covered the flank Alistair and I kept chipping away. It would lose a layer, break free, get frozen again, etc, until was small and weak enough to handle like any other normal demon.

And that's a set of words I never thought I'd use outside of a D&D game.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for your patience while waiting for this update. Real life has intruded in the form of chores, a weird situation at work, and taking the oldest back to college. But I've managed to catch up in a marathon session and will hopefully have another chapter (or maybe two) out a little quicker than usual._

_As always I'd like to thank everybody out there who's reading, reviewing, faving, and alerting _**MoN**_!_


	38. Resolutions

The voice was breathy and reverberating and mostly devoid of emotion. "Warden. Speak with you, I would. I am-"

Neria's voice came around the corner. "What are you?"

"Warden. Dryden. Sophia. Commander." There was a slight questioning as those words were spoken, but then an undercurrent of confidence became audible. "Yes, those things am I, and more."

"Uhm, no offense commander, but you've really let yourself go." Alistair's voice didn't have the usual ring of sarcasm; whatever he was looking at had him kinda freaked out.

And it was making me curious as hell. I was on rear guard with Sten watching both the Veil portal and another door, but we kept looking back towards the room the Wardens were in. Leliana was in my line of sight; she looked a bit freaked herself and a lot disgusted. Morrigan merely looked contemptuous.

"You are a Warden, as is the mage." It was a statement.

"I am."

"Respect; you will show it."

"You're not a Warden," Neria said. "Whatever you are you merely…inhabit this…shell."

"Shell. A fine word. Yes, but this shell: I would be rid of it."

I hissed at Leliana and moved quietly towards her as she moved towards me. I whispered to her quickly and we both moved back to our stations.

"One of us, or many of us," the demon was saying.

"Neria," Leliana said, "perhaps the…commander would be interested in the same thing we offered Uldred."

"Your underling: keep her silent."

"No," Neria said, "I think you might be interested in this. Alistair?"

"I think it would be an excellent offer." Ah, sometimes Alistair's really on the ball.

"Tell her, Leliana."

I looked back just in time to see Leliana draw and release a quick shot that caused the demon to scream. And then she smoothly reached for, found, nocked, and loosed another shot that got no audible reaction. I heard a yell from Alistair and what was presumably a sword-on-skull crunch. A couple seconds later there was a flash from the tear. I tapped Sten and we turned to watch it, but I kept glancing towards the fight in the office.

"There!" Neria shouted.

Morrigan threw out a spell before Leliana could shoot, but then the bard turned and dropped a mostly skeletal corpse before it could even rise. Alistair stepped into view and bashed in its skull, and things got quiet again.

Zevran appeared at the doorway below us. "Is all well, mia amici?"

I nodded. "We're good; come on up."

"Jeff," Alistair called, "could you come in here, please?"

Hmm. I went into the commander's office. The only thing of note was a beautiful set of plate mail lying on the floor with a couple of arrows where the wearer's head should be. "Where's the body?" I asked.

Neria was poking the armor with her staff. "I think the demon was holding it together. It just collapsed into dust when we killed her. Killed it."

Alistair put a hand on my shoulder. "You need some better armor, and this looks to be in good condition. Would you like it?"

My reaction? _Whoa_. And _ewww._ I looked down at the armor. It's pretty ornate with the impractically high shoulder guards and that beautifully embossed griffon on the chest. And I think it's anodized somehow; it's certainly not painted. _And_ it's not like we had to pry it off a body (at least a fresh one), so that wasn't an issue. Yeah, I'd need to give a good scrubbing first. But…

It took me a couple tries to speak. "I'm…honored," I said, and I was. "But Alistair, this is _Warden_ armor; shouldn't you or Neria be-"

Alistair laughed. "I'd like to see that."

The mage snorted. "That'll happen the same day you put on a dress and dance for me."

Leliana chuckled. "I'd _love_ to see that."

Me, too, but, "Okay, not Neria…well, I would like to see her-" She wrinkled her nose at me. "-but…shouldn't you have dibs on it?"

"Well, this-" He indicated the Templar armor he was wearing. "-fits me fine, and I'm pretty used to it, and it helps me focus my Templar abilities." He nodded towards the Warden armor. "And I think that would be a bit tight on me. We'd have to test fit it on you, of course, but…."

I held up a hand. "We'll test fit it on _both_ of us. You still get first dibs, though. I'm perfectly willing to scrounge another set of chain."

Alistair looked like I'd kicked him in the shin. _And_ he gave me puppy dog eyes. "If you're sure-"

And that made me feel like a jerk. But still…. "Alistair, I am flattered and honored, but this is _Grey Warden_ armor and it should be worn by a _Grey Warden_. Besides, I think the blue will set off your eyes."

Alistair gave me a small smile. "Well, maybe, but it matches yours."

"But the contrast with yours; the ladies'll be all over you."

The smile broke into a grin. "Well, there is that. Although to be fair, the Templar armor does keep the crowd down to a manageable size."

"I can see how it would keep the lady mages away. But that means I can swoop in and pick up the hey!"

Morrigan had jabbed me with her staff.

"Do you mind? Male bonding going ow! Neria!"

* * *

><p>The bridge to the next tower has a great view. The path we'd come up was clearly visible. I could see a pond that supplied the little stream that flowed towards the caverns; there are open gates on the downstream side. The mountain side is amazing. Tall peaks studded with pines until the mountains get too steep for trees and even dirt. The keep is backed right up to them; no way anybody's getting in or out from that side. Not unless there's another passage going north through the mountains. And I wouldn't be surprised to find out there is.<p>

"A lovely view," Wynne said tiredly. "Much nicer than the Tower's."

"It is," Neria agreed, then nudged me. "Done gawking?"

"Is that what I think it is?" I pointed to a turret off the back side of the tower.

"Potted plants?"

"And a rain barrel, I think." I gave her back my glasses. "I'm ready."

We stepped around the handful of corpses we'd had to take down and approached the door.

"Should we knock?" Alistair asked.

"'Twould be polite-"

"But not prudent," Sten added.

"The darkspawn I'm sensing are inside," Alistair added. "Along with something else. I think it's a Warden. It could be the mage."

"Just go in," Neria said.

* * *

><p><em>Wardens – My attention is focused elsewhere at the moment. Feel free to wait here. I will be with you soonest. VRNS <em>

* * *

><p>"This is some scary shit." I'd skimmed through one of the journallab notebooks we'd found while waiting for whoever wrote the message to open his doors. "Apparently Avernus, or whoever wrote this, has been experimenting on live subjects. I'm not sure if it's darkspawn or…someone else, though."

"Does it say anything about this?" Alistair was looking at a table with a handful of glass vials on it. Each vial had dark fluid in it. Schmuck bait if I ever saw it, but nobody rose to the occasion.

"Nothing that I saw. You two find anything?"

"'Tis as we thought. Blood magic." Morrigan looked thoughtful as she looked up from a notebook. "But specific to Grey Wardens. I am not certain, but these potions-" She pointed to the vials. "-appear to release…well, 'tis described as the potential of the Joining draught."

"Let me see that." Alistair's voice was sharply serious.

"See it. However, I doubt you will find yourself enlightened."

Alistair didn't quite snatch the book from Morrigan. He read the page it was open to with a growing scowl on his face. "Neria, look at this. Tell me if you think it means what I think it means."

Neria took a look at the book. "I'm not sure. I think he's saying-"

Alistair grabbed Neria by the arm and pulled her across the room and away from everybody. The pair started a quiet conversation.

The rest of us were split between watching them and the two doors that lead to Avernus' room. But Morrigan leaned towards me and whispered. "Grey Warden secret, do you suppose?"

I figured she was fishing for information and decided to throw her a bit. "Not as secret as they'd like," I whispered back.

"Mother always said the Grey Wardens kept their secrets poorly."

"I don't know that I'd say that. But there are…patterns that you can see. If you look carefully."

"What pattern do you see here?"

I looked over to where Neria was reading Alistair a passage from the book he was holding. "Two confused kids tossed in over their heads. They need all the help they can get."

"Then 'tis a good thing you are here, is it not?"

I decided to ignore the sarcasm. "Not just me, but all of us."

"But I wonder what price you will attempt to extract from this venture."

That came out of nowhere and I had no answer to it.

"Oh, come now. Every one of you has a reason for being here."

True, but what's mine?

"Ah, the blank face. Wonderful for games of chance, but not-"

One of the doors opened and everybody jumped. Even Sten. "Hello! Please come in," Avernus stated simply.

* * *

><p>Avernus: Wrinkled. Emaciated. Ancient. Shrunken. Withered. Frail. The dude's old and skinny. He reminds me of a pale Ghandi. His robes (which aren't in very good shape themselves) are just hanging on him. But he moves like every step isn't a chore, but rather something to be savored, and his eyes have the gleam of a '50s B-movie mad scientist. Which is kind of the case, I guess.<p>

The lab was a cross between the mad scientist's lab and the Spanish Inquisition. Tables covered with brewing apparatus, ingredients, and log books were scattered through the room. I took a look in a pit; it was full of bones, but, fortunately, I guess, nothing fresh. Spikes, cages, and chain were attached to one wall. One of the cages had a couple of darkspawn in it. That didn't scare me, but what did scare me was that they only stared at us listlessly.

We followed Avernus into his lab as he spoke. The only thing not unusual about him (which in turn, made it unusual) was his voice: it was clear and strong; the voice of an older man just past his prime rather than an ancient fossil on life support.

"I suppose I should thank you for the welcome yet temporary imbalance you have inflicted upon the demons. Don't worry, though; the imbalance will last long enough for us to plan our next actions."

"Uhm, Avernus?" Neria asked.

"Be careful, Neria," Leliana said. "He dabbles in things forbidden by the Maker."

"Pah!" Avernus said. "Men have forbidden my dabbling. As for the Maker; well, he's had plenty of time to put a stop to me if he cared enough to do so." He turned as he reached the center of his lab and gave Neria a withering look. "But that's not important! My time is short; why are you here?"

Neria just stared, so Alistair spoke up this time. "We, erm, were led here by a man named Dryden. We think-"

"A Dryden? Related to Sophia?" At our nods Avernus let out a short bark of a laugh. "So Fate does have a sense of humor. Where is the boy?"

"He's waiting outside; he found-"

"Too dangerous for him? Understandable, I suppose. But two Wardens-"

"Be careful," Wynne called from the back of the room, "he is likely a blood mage."

Avernus smiled. "Blood magic. Another forbidden art, yet so useful. But, please! You look exhausted; feel free to find a chair." He reached for a set of test tubes on a table.

"I am well enough."

Avernus' hand dithered then made a choice. "Try this." He held up a vial and offered it to Wynne.

"I require and will certainly accept nothing from you."

"'Tis a simple restorative. Nothing more. There is not even any blood involved."

Wynne was silent.

"And yet you approve of phylacteries. Very well." Avernus shrugged and drank the vial himself. It took a few seconds, but he did seem stronger. "You, ser!" He suddenly pointed at me. "Why are you attempting to flank me?"

I stopped cold where I was. "Sorry. Habit." I walked back to the group as he continued speaking.

"I suppose you have questions, young Wardens, but I've anticipated some of them…." He started explaining how he'd kept himself alive by experimenting with potions, and how he'd kept himself safe from the demons by experimenting with the Warden's darkspawn Taint, and how he'd used darkspawn that had wandered in to continue his research, and how, finally, he'd sensed the oncoming Blight and sent a compulsion of sorts out years ago that, by chance, reached Levi. "But," he finally said, "I have questions of my own." He stepped forward towards Neria, but she stepped backwards at his approach. Avernus shrugged and faced Alistair. "Junior Wardens, you both are. And this one a Warden for barely a month! Is the order so pressed-"

Alistair drew himself up. "We are the order. At least in Ferelden." It was his turn to info dump; he gave a summary of the events at Ostagar, as well as a quick run down of our travels together.

Avernus looked to Neria again, but she drew herself up while stepping closer to Alistair. I don't blame her; Avernus looked at me next and it felt like he was wondering how many pints of blood he could draw. But his view continued to others; most of them flinched under that gaze.

The gaze finally returned to Alistair and flicked back and forth between him and Neria. "So rather than seek help from the order elsewhere you made a side trip to my abode?"

Alistair stammered. "I wouldn't put it quite like that. We were hoping to find-"

"Find what? Wardens? You've found him."

"Weapons. Or something."

"The keep is…." Avernus looked at our Wardens for a moment. "Yours," he finally said. "I have little time left, but there are useful things here aside from myself. My research. Maps. Other information. A safe refuge. Some coin and weapons. All yours."

"But at what cost?" Wynne asked.

"The Veil must be repaired. Unless, of course, you simply wish to grab what you can and flee." The look he gave Alistair made him step back. "I do not recommend that. But your tame Circle mage asks what I want. I merely want a place to safely continue my research until my time arrives. Oh, I will aid you in combating the Blight; I am still a Grey Warden. But killing the Archdemon?" Avernus chuckled at that. "That is an improbable ambition. No, that responsibility is still yours."

Neria finally came out of her shell. "But the other Wardens. You experimented on them!" Neria spat. "You killed them!"

"I did what I could to protect myself and my research _and_ prepare the order to combat the next Blight. This Blight! The other Wardens-"

"Your brothers and sisters," Alistair said bitterly.

"-were going to perish anyway. I gave their deaths meaning!"

"But did they consent to their deaths and your meaning?" I asked as calmly as I could. I had visions of too many well-intentioned, and mal-intentioned, extremists running through my head.

"They were Grey Wardens. They were willing to do whatever it took to combat the darkspawn."

"Did they consent?"

Avernus locked his eyes on to mine, and I could feel the years of loneliness and suffering and resolve behind them. I couldn't feel any guilt or pain or remorse, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Whatever else he was feeling was locked away behind those eyes, and I wasn't going to get that lock open. "They were willing to do whatever it took. Do not let their sacrifices be wasted."

"But they-" Neria started.

Avernus interrupted her. "I will _not_ let their sacrifices be wasted. But neither should we waste any more of our time squabbling, for the demons are regrouping." He held up a hand. "Hear me on this: Soldier's Peak and its resources are yours and I will aid you in securing them. Until such time as the Veil is repaired and every demon in this keep is destroyed we are allies. And once that is accomplished we will sit and argue to our hearts' content. But for now our goals coincide, and their realization requires we cooperate."

"How can we trust you?" Alistair asked.

"I realize it means little to you, but I swear upon my oath as a Grey Warden that I will take no action against you, or against any of your companions."

"How can we trust you?" Alistair repeated.

"We can trust him." Everybody turned to look at me.

"You should listen to your companion, Wardens."

Alistair spun to look at me. "Andraste's ashes, Jeff! How can you say that?" His voice was tight.

For a change I didn't need metaknowledge. "Look at him. No matter what else he is, he's still a Grey Warden. And for some twisted reason that still means something to him." But he hadn't answered my question about consent, so I added, "Maybe not the same thing it means to you two, but it's still important to him."

"Your companion speaks bluntly, but he speaks the truth."

Neria glanced at Avernus then walked over to me. She put her mouth to my ear. "Jeffrey, are you sure? He scares me."

"He scares me, too," I whispered back. "But-"

Alistair strode towards me. "By the Maker! What is with you? First Zevran and now this…person!"

Zevran spoke from where he stood near Wynne. "Do not put me in the same category as this individual."

Alistair ignored him. "How can you say you trust him?" Like I'd said before, Alistair doesn't get angry often, but when he does you know it. And Alistair was angry.

But I was calm and, well, resigned, and went with the obvious line of attack. "Alistair, you trust me, right?" A sharp nod was his answer, so I continued. "So when I say I trust him- Look, we need to get Veil sealed." I could still see it flashing in the back of my head. "Wynne's too wrung out to-"

"I'm well enough," Wynne called.

Everybody called her out on that. Even Avernus.

"So unless we want to grab what we can and just leave then I think Avernus here is our best bet for getting this done. And I trust him, at least enough for this, because…I just…know I can."

Alistair visibly relaxed as spoke, but he wasn't convinced. "I don't know-"

"I understand. And if I were in your shoes I wouldn't trust him either, and I'd have a hard time believing me."

"Jeffrey," Neria asked, "is this like when you warned me about the Tower?"

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Alistair still wasn't totally convinced. I doubt the others were either. "Do we even need this place, though? Maybe we should just grab what we can and go."

"Alistair," Wynne said, "it would irresponsible of us to leave the Veil torn. What of other travelers?"

"Aside from the point that we're the first ones to come here in ages?" Alistair suddenly seemed to think of something. He turned around to address Avernus again. "The demons can't leave, can they?"

"Only as long as I remain alive to confine them to the keep." Avernus actually gave Alistair a pleading look. "Please, young Warden. Listen to your mentors. If nothing else allow me to repair the Veil and avoid releasing the dangers unleashed here into the world. Afterwards…well, should you find my aid unpalatable then lock me back in this room until I expire. I deserve no more."

Neria looked to Alistair. "I think it's the best choice."

"As do I," Wynne added.

Alistair looked back to me. I knew it was a tough call for him, so I gave him a small nod. But I could still see the struggle in his eyes and on his face. He was torn between trusting his own gut instincts (as good as those were) and looking at the situation objectively. I think his guts were right; if I'd been in his shoes, I wouldn't have trusted Avernus in the least. But maybe that's why I'm here, though. Like I said to Morrigan: Alistair and Neria need all the help they can get. There's no omnipresent authority figure guiding their every move; maybe they need me on the ground to give them that guidance. Damn, that sounds egotistical. Okay, how about I'm here to give them _some _guidance. But maybe that's too strong as well. Maybe I'm just here to give them those little pushes every now and then to maybe help things go right. Or maybe I'm just ascribing outside motive to the actions I'd be taking anyway. But showing up at the time and place and manner that I did? I don't have a problem with coincidence, but everything that's happened is just way too coincidental to just be coincidence.

But I wasn't thinking that at the time. I was just quietly willing Alistair to go along with the plan. It worked. The defiance left his body and he nodded at us. "Fine."

* * *

><p>Avernus told us what to expect as we headed back to the main hall. Demons would pour out of the gate he'd created as he destroyed the summoning portals. Once that was done he'd be able to actually repair the Veil. We just had to keep him safe while he did it. Easy, right? Actually, yes, at least compared to the fights we'd had earlier. No casting demons. No adds summoned. The demons that Avernus had said would swarm us clawed their way through a single portal; the same one the big demon we'd faced earlier had come through. But that demon had had the power to open the smaller portals Avernus created; these lesser demons either didn't have the power or didn't have time to use it, or Avernus was doing something to keep them from using his portals. None of them presented the challenge that first demon had. Alistair and I did our job; we didn't deal out much damage, but we held the line, bottlenecked the portal and kept the mages safe. Sten kept my flank safe but this time we gave him the space he needed to reave through the bad guys. Zevran and Leliana picked off stragglers and kept Alistair's flank covered.<p>

This isn't to say we came through this unscathed. Zevran was a bit slow at one point and got slammed into and over a railing. Sten added a couple more scars to his collection. Both Morrigan and Neria lost some hair. Cullen ended up burned and bloody. And Alistair and I both absorbed more than our fair share of abuse. Wynne, at least, had listened to Neria and stood back and away from the fight, and promised to only come in if absolutely necessary, but I think she went to help Zevran and threw a few healing spells into the mix.

And, after a surprisingly short time, the fight was over.

"My work is done," Avernus announced. "The Veil is repaired, although it is possible some after effects will be felt. Now, if you will pardon me, I will return to my spaces." And he turned to walk away. Yeah, just like that.

Or at least that's what I was told. At the time I was dealing with a swollen eye and a broken and bloody nose, among other things, and yes, it hurt.

Morrigan was threatening to not heal me if I wouldn't stop looking at her tits. I wasn't (I swear!); it just looked like I was. And then I heard the yelling. I didn't catch it all, but Neria told me what had been said.

"Wait," Neria yelled. "We need to talk-"

"Not now; not today." Avernus just kept walking back towards his tower. "Speak with me tomorrow."

"You summoned demons! Lots of them!" Neria was almost shouting. "Do you know-"

"I did what needed to be done. But I'm tired now; speak with me tomorrow."

And I'm tired, too. See you tomorrow.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Two quick updates this weekend (three if you count _**SG:O**_; four with _**Family Ties**_); what is the world coming to?_

_I just hit 50 faves; special thanks to **EmbertoInferno** for helping me hit that milestone!_

_I got a bit more action in these last couple chapters and I'm pretty happy with how I pulled it off. Things are going to quiet down a bit, but that's partially because I figured out a good way to handle the increasingly large cast of characters. Hint: it involves a Crown Royal bag, a bottle of Sam Adams, and a German Shepherd. Or maybe a Commander Shepard? No, definitely a German Shepherd._

_And at the risk of sounding like I'm begging, reviews (good, bad, or ugly) are always appreciated!_


	39. To Do List

**25 Solace (day 38) late morning**

Not much to say about the wrap up from yesterday. A protesting Wynne got put down for a much-needed nap. The group did a quick sweep for any threats we might have missed and ended up taking down a couple more demons. We brought Levi in and showed him around. He wasn't too thrilled to hear about what his great-grandma had done, but we gave him a tour of the place with a guarded promise to let him speak to Avernus. And peaking of his GGM, we grabbed the armor and gave it a thorough scrubbing, although, to be fair to the demon, it wasn't really funky. We patched ourselves up, although Alistair and I needed the most attention. Whatever Avernus had done to repair the Veil had taken; with one exception I couldn't see any more tears or echoes of tears, and Morrigan and Wynne backed me up on that. There were a few corpses to clean up, but unlike the Tower, these were old, mummified things that weren't that bad to deal with when they weren't trying to kill you. It took a little while, but we built a pyre, piled the remains on it, and burned them. So now we had a creepy old and confirmed haunted (but probably not anymore) castle to ourselves. And we're sharing it with a semi-psychotic mad scientist.

No big deal. And, I guess, more than I thought there was to say.

On the plus side, however, we have a solid roof over our heads, fresh clean water to drink without worrying about what might be upstream, fireplaces to keep us warm and cook in, real (if creaky) chairs to set our happy asses on, and a real table to gather around for dinner and breakfast. We even had real lighting thanks to the glowstones. And praise Cloacina for something resembling a real bathroom; the drains are clean and demon-free, and there's even a tub to soak in. It feels almost homey. The only downside was Zevran complaining about having to open a half-dozen bottles of wine before finding one that hadn't gone bad. That's okay with me; I'm a beer guy anyway.

Well, there was another downside. Not breakfast; we actually gathered around a table and had a real meal that didn't involve balancing cups and bowls on laps and rocks. But during breakfast…

Neria looked up from where she'd been picking at her meal. "We have to figure out what to do about Avernus."

"Right now, mio capo bella? Can we not just enjoy a meal and each others' company and this surprisingly well-preserved vintage? For a short time, at least?"

Sten stopped his methodical attack on his breakfast. "The mage must be addressed before we depart. We should delay no longer than necessary."

"But surely a few hours-"

"No," Wynne said firmly, "we need to do this." But that didn't stop her from obviously enjoying her own sip of wine. "But," she added with a look at Sten, "a day of rest instead of traveling would be most welcome."

"I agree," Alistair said around a mouthful of something. "With both of you."

"So what do we do?" I asked. "Have a trial?"

Leliana finished her own sip of wine. "I think we know most of what he has done. He admitted it himself."

"So he's guilty? Just like that?" I know, but cultural conditioning and all that.

Leliana answered tersely. "He took actions forbidden by the Maker and the Chantry. And he shows little or no remorse for having done so."

Neria chimed in. "He summoned demons. He's used blood magic." She fixed me with her angry stare. "You said yourself you think he experimented on the other Wardens; the other survivors." Her voice was actually starting to get shrill.

I held up my hands. "You're right. You're right. I'm sorry." I just shook my head and didn't say anything more.

There was silence around the table except for Alistair's and Cullen's chewing.

Zevran finally spoke again. "A single-minded man, this Avernus. Perhaps, had he some scruples, he would have made a good Crow."

Alistair coughed. "Are you trying to tell us you have scruples?"

"Oh, I do, mio amico. It is the duty of an assassin to cleanly kill the target; to, if you'll pardon the play on words, execute the mission in the most efficient manner. Leaving a target to suffer is the mark of carelessness." He shrugged. "Unless, of course, the cliente has paid extra. Much extra."

"Maker! I do not believe I'm hearing this."

"Zevran is right," Leliana said. "It is-" She stopped and took a healthy drink of wine.

There was a short pause then Wynne spoke sharply. "Avernus has no conscience. He's conducted unethical experiments and consorted with demons, and has probably done worse things that we don't know about."

Levi spoke for the first time. "There are rumors about travelers gone missing around here."

"To be fair," Zevran said, "I have seen no evidence of such. At least not in this fortrezza, or anywhere during yesterday's journey."

"He summoned demons. Isn't that enough?" I thought Neria was going to cry. "Maker, demons! On purpose! He did as much to destroy the Grey Wardens as that nasty king did!"

Alistair looked troubled, and his voice was unsure. "I believe him when he says that was an accident, but then he started those experiments. He all but admits killing the other Wardens." He pushed his plate away. "I don't know if I can forgive that."

"He killed his family. Not on purpose, but he did it." Neria's voice was thick, and she leaned forward to rest her chin on her arms.

Leliana reached over to rub Neria's back. "I think he is sorry."

I caught Leliana's eyes. "I think maybe he did regret what he did, but that was a while ago. He's not that person anymore, but I'm not sure who he is now."

"No," said Sten. He was impassive as always. "He became angry when it was suggested his fellow Wardens may have sacrificed themselves in vain**. **He believes he allowed them to attain their destiny. But the point we are debating is whether his actions were correct."

Leliana scowled slightly. "If nothing else he cares for the memories of who they were," she said with an expression of distaste at saying something nice about Avernus.

"That's something, at least." Alistair still didn't sound sure of himself.

"And yet he is boss seraboss. Extremely so. But he is not just a dangerous thing; he is a cautionary example of why the Qunari tightly control our mages."

Morrigan finally spoke up. "You mean leash and enslave them so as to make the Tower appear a beacon of freedom?"

"That is exactly what I mean."

"Morrigan-" Leliana interrupted the brewing fight. "-you have not given us your opinion on Avernus."

The witch glared at Sten for a moment longer then turned to the redhead. "Avernus is a very talented potions master in addition to being a powerful mage. 'Tis a shame he's squandered his gift on blood magic."

Neria didn't lift her head. "But what about-"

Morrigan shrugged. "You have already determined his guilt. All that remains to determine is who among you shall execute him."

"I am willing." Of course Sten was.

Knowing the answer doesn't do you any good if you don't know the question. Neria and I got it out at the same time. "But should you/we?" we asked in unison.

"Yes." Well, Sten's answer was expected.

"No." So was Morrigan's.

"Why, Sten?" I asked.

"He is boss seraboss. He has been too long unchained, and he is dangerous to all he encounters."

"But aren't you dangerous? Didn't you…?" I left the past hanging.

A cloud crossed over Sten's face. "I am, and I did. But my kara [?] has grown stronger. And I have bound myself to the Warden. My arm is hers; I will not act ashkarasar [?] again."

"But you'd been sentenced to death, and now you're here."

"I am."

"Maker, Jeff! Again?" Alistair sounded frustrated. "Don't tell me you're defending Avernus!"

"I believe he is acting as ashkaraqun. A…an advocate for the accused. Or, in this case, the guilty. It is not an unreasonable act. Although it is beyond the responsibilities of a sten."

"It's an ideal of my homeland." I looked around the table as I spoke. "An accused man has someone to speak for him, or at least get him a fair…punishment if he's found guilty." I gave them a tight half-frown. "It doesn't always work out, but we try."

There were nods from around the table, but Alistair still didn't look happy.

"Alistair," Leliana said, "we are seeking justice, not vengeance. What Avernus has done is horrible, but we should judge him with both our hearts and our minds."

"Blind action is the-," Morrigan started.

Neria didn't lift her head. "No insults, Morrigan."

"Very well. _We_ should not act blindly, or hastily, in this matter."

"I'm not a Templar; I do stop and think before I smite something. Usually. But I still think he should be punished. Somehow."

Quiet fell again and I considered the options. Death, ethical experimenting, and exile are the canonical choices, but this is reality. We've got infinite options. None of those are off the table, but what to choose? It's not like selecting a dialogue option then reloading if you don't like the outcome. Arg.

I sighed and spoke up. "Let's not decide anything right now. Let's just walk away, and think about it and meet back here for lunch and we'll make a decision then. But take some time to think about it. Everybody okay with that?"

There was a general air of assent along with an unspoken agreement that breakfast was over.

* * *

><p>I grunted and shoved without success. "I don't care how much you pester me I'm not gonna talk about it."<p>

Alistair tried shoving the jammed door but didn't have any luck either. "I still think he needs to be punished."

"I don't disagree with you on that, but we're supposed to be thinking about it separately. On three."

We shoved together and the door opened with a grind of splintering wood and a crack of a hinge giving way. Alistair held up our glowstone and we took a look at the room. It had a thick layer of dust over everything, but was reasonably well lit by the stone and the light from a couple of small, barred windows. The windows aren't glassed, though; there's a mossy puddle on the floor from the last rainstorm.

We found part of what we were looking for, though: the armory. Weapons, armor, shields. There was other equipment scattered about the keep but it's generally not in good shape after lying around for a couple of centuries. The problem was the gear here is in worse shape; the open windows let in the weather. Weather means water, and water means rust and mold. And of course more birds, which means more bird shit. No rodents or other vermin, though; I guess the demons kept them out.

"By the Maker!" Alistair said. "Who puts windows in an armory?" He kicked at a solid mass of rust that probably used to be chain mail.

"Well, I guess I'm not scrounging that." I bumped a somewhat more solid mass that had probably been plate. An old nest fell out of it.

"I assume it is safe for us to enter?" Morrigan strode into the room; the other mages were right behind her.

"Well, except for the bird crap." I pointed to a corner. "Our little Fade…blur is right there." That was the other thing we were looking for.

"I can feel it."

I shrugged. I think Morrigan gets bitchier the better she sleeps. But I let her examine the little tear that we'd found. She moved around it the way Monk moves around a crime scene; she even held up her hands the same way. But then she caressed the tear gently with a curious look on her face.

Wynne and Neria were slightly further back, but Wynne was simply holding her hand out. Neria's hand was right next to Wynne's and there was a faint glow coming from their palms.

"I'm…just…not…." Neria trailed off. She looked frustrated.

"Wynne, come closer." Morrigan didn't look up; she was holding perfectly still. "Can you feel it?"

Wynne's eyes closed and she tilted her head like she was barely hearing something. "Ah! Yes! It's like-"

"Like that which I told you. Does it make sense now?"

Wynne's eyes snapped open. They were bright and eager. "Yes!"

Morrigan gave Wynne one of her gentle smiles. "Shall we- Oh. Yes." She frowned at Alistair and me. "The Wardens here were cleverer than one would think. There is something concealed here; partially in the Fade it would seem." She turned to go but stopped when Wynne spoke.

"Morrigan. Let's at least wait until they've retrieved it."

Alistair frowned at Morrigan. "Can't you-"

"No." Okay, bitchier to Alistair, and maybe me.

Wynne sighed. "Neria, come here. Alistair, you, too. Now, both of you; concentrate. Can you feel the-"

"I think so," Alistair said. "It almost feels like another Warden, but…."

Neria shook her head. "I can feel the tear. I think, but not much else."

"I wonder if I should trying smiting it."

At that all three mages jerked their heads up. "No!" they said in a chorus.

"Sorry."

Wynne patted his shoulder. "The Warden who hid this probably wouldn't have had a Templar handy," she said patiently. "Jeff, you're good at puzzles…."

"Sorry. I'm drawing a blank right now." And I was. All I could remember was something about a painting. "Or maybe not. What about that…frame?" There wasn't much left of it. Just some tattered canvas and barely visible streaks in a wooden frame weathered to gray. But it was connected to the tear somehow, and there was a small tarnished plaque on it. "Can you read the plaque?"

"Too tarnished."

"I got nothin' else. Alistair?"

"No idea. Neria?"

"Maybe…if we put some blood on it? Warden blood?"

"Blood magic?"

"Neria, really?" Wynne's voice was scolding.

"It's just a drop. I'm not going to end up like Avernus."

Ding. I would have facepalmed but I was wearing my glasses. I settled for rubbing my eyes. "Why don't we just ask him?"

Alistair gave me a very skeptical look. "We ask him how to find the lost Grey Warden treasure? Right before we execute him? I'm sure he'll be very cooperative."

"Alistair." Another scolding tone from Wynne.

"No," I said, "he's got a good point. But it couldn't hurt to ask. Even if he-" _Tells us to fuck off._ "-says no we're no worse off than we are now."

When Avernus had said the keep and its contents were ours he meant it. Less than ten minutes later we were standing back in front of the frame. Alistair lightly touched the plaque and recited something. There was a shudder and a chest seemed to unfold from nothingness right at Alistair's feet. A very slight puff of displaced air washed through the room and we all stared at the chest that appeared to have been put in place just yesterday. The flickering of the Fade tear was gone.

Morrigan wasn't there to comment on it, but Wynne spoke up. "If what Morrigan told me is correct then this enchantment is very dangerous." She gave Neria a strong look. "_Do not_ try this yourself."

Neria was just staring at it. "I wouldn't even know how to start."

Alistair had been reaching for the chest but stopped and looked at Wynne. "There's a story about a Warden fortress in the Anderfels. It just disappeared one day. Nothing left but a smoking crater. Could something like this have caused that?"

Wonderful. We'd been walking around on an armed potential energy bomb. I'll let you run the numbers.

Wynne shrugged. "I suppose, but you'd really need to ask Morrigan."

"I think I'll pass. Shall I open it?"

I drew my sword and backed up a couple of steps. "I'm ready."

Wynne and Neria followed my lead and readied their staffs.

Alistair gave us all a frown. "Don't everybody crowd around." He opened the chest and stared at the contents.

And stared.

And stared some more.

"What is it?" I asked. "Cheese?"

"Even better."

* * *

><p>"Bello." Zevran reverently reached out to run a finger along the longsword Alistair had placed on the dining table. "Almost as beautiful as our ladies." For once it didn't sound like a line.<p>

"If I may?" At Alistair's nod Sten lifted the sword and held it vertically. He examined it for a moment then returned it to the table. "A fine weapon. Those who crafted it should be proud."

Alistair was beaming like a brand new dad. He carefully, almost delicately, sheathed the weapon.

"'Tis not a newborn babe, and 'tis most certainly not made of glass."

"This is a piece of Grey Warden history, you know."

"Then ensure you honor it as such." Sten gave Alistair a hard look. "A weapon and its wielder should be worthy of each other."

"Errr, thank you?"

"No."

The sword wasn't the only piece of sweet loot we found. There was a matched pair of ornately forged knives; too short to be true daggers, but Morrigan claimed them for her own. Leliana was a little disappointed, but a few dozen enchanted arrows fixed that. There were two bandoliers filled with various potions; most of them are for healing and mana, but a few are labeled as protective draughts and ointments of various sorts. But the most important find were the money bags. We counted up the coins; the total along with little stashes we found around the keep the total came out to well over fifty sovereigns. And there was a small bag containing a few gemstones; nothing large, but hopefully worth something.

The interesting thing about the chest was that it appeared to be time-locked as well. The silver coins and other items you'd expect to be corroded weren't. The potions are supposedly over two hundred years old, but Morrigan and Wynne are pretty sure they're fresh and useable. We'll have Avernus look at them later (he might have even brewed them); for all his faults he at least appears to have been honest with us.

But we have another issue. We also found out the Warden armor doesn't quite fit me. Sophia was a fairly large woman, but she was still smaller than me. The armor's more than a bit tight through the shoulders and slightly so through the waist, and that's not something we can fix by loosening up some straps. So Alistair and I started poking around some more hoping to find some armor that actually stood up to time. We didn't have any luck; apparently having Sophia's memories prompted the demon to maintain its gear, but that was the only stuff it touched. The few things that Avernus kept in order outside his lab didn't include armor or weapons.

So when everybody was done admiring Alistair's new sword I addressed the group. "I know we were gonna talk about what to do with Avernus, but I think we've got another decision to make first." I rolled out our travel map out and pointed at it. "We're here, and here's Denerim. We're what? Three, four days away?"

Levi spoke up. "More likely four."

"Thanks." I could feel the groans spinning up from the others as I continued. "I think a side trip to Denerim would be in order."

Sten fired first. "This will delay our journey to Orzammar by at least ten days."

Neria's shot was a bit kinder. "The only reason we're _here_ is because Levi asked for our help. I don't think any of us planned to go to Denerim."

Zevran hadn't even looked at the map, but had his own question. "Why do you wish to go to the fair city?"

Leliana chuckled. "I do not know that I would call Denerim 'fair'."

"Like any other city, it has its charms."

"If you can get past the smell of wet dog."

"That is a downside, mio amico grande. But if you were-"

"Ah-uhm!" I got the attention back to me. "First off: my armor's a wreck, and since Alistair wants me in this Warden armor so bad I've got to get it properly fitted. And that means we need an armorer who knows what he's doing. And I know there's a good one in Denerim."

Neria leaned forward to look at the map. "What about…Highever? That's a decent sized city."

I shook my head. So did Leliana, Zevran, and Alistair. We all started to object at once but my voice ended up winning. "Arl Howe of Amaranthine attacked Highever about month and a half, maybe two months ago. He razed the keep and sacked the city; I don't know how safe it'd be there for us."

Zevran spoke up. "Probably not at all. It was Arl Howe who hired the Crows-"

Alistair jerked his head around. "Wait. I thought Loghain hired you."

"No, mio amico. It was Arl Howe – a most unpleasant individuo – who contracted with the Crows. He took me to speak with Teryn Regent Loghain, but Loghain merely assented to the contract. I was in his presence for but un momento; I doubt he even remembers my face."

Alistair just looked confused. "But why would Arl Howe want the Grey Wardens dead? I mean, Loghain I can understand…."

"That I do not know, and did not ask." Zevran shrugged. "Perhaps you despoiled his daughter?"

"What? No!" Alistair started turning red.

"A pity for her, then."

Is this entire group ADD? "_Ah-uhm! _Focus people!"

Well, maybe not Wynne. "Please, Jeff, continue."

"Oy. Where were we?"

"Not going to Highever," Neria said. "What about Orzammar?"

"I have no doubt the smiths there could do the job, but that takes me off the line for whole trip. And you don't want me in the back trying to shoot a bow."

Leliana smiled. "Oh, you are not that bad."

I laughed. "Thanks, but my point stands. Second: Neria and Alistair may be the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden, but isn't there some way we could get a message to the foreign Wardens and ask for some help?"

Everybody turned to look at the Wardens. Neria looked at Alistair. He'd just gotten his color back to normal but started blushing under the attention. "Well, there is a Warden compound in Denerim-"

"It is- make that was - being watched. Part of the contract, you understand." Zevran looked thoughtful. "But the servants; they were in no danger, and it may be possible to approach them, and they may have a means to contact Wardens in other lands."

"I have…contacts in Denerim." Now everybody turned to look at Leliana. "I could certainly pass a message through them. It might be easier than going to the Wardens' servants."

Wynne spoke in her usual quiet voice. "Those are both good ideas, and might on their own be worth the journey."

I could feel the group starting to shift my way. "Third: we need money. Well, when we were counting out the stash we found I separated these out." I put a dozen almost flawless coins, gold and silver, on the map. "Alistair pointed them out to me. Look at the dates they were struck. I'm not familiar enough with Ferelden history to know how old they are, but some of these have to be valuable."

Neria looked confused. "Money for old coins?"

Leliana was looking at the coins. "Some of these date back over four ages."

"There are those who collect coins for their, uh, historical value. And these are in excellent condition." Now everybody was staring at Alistair again, including me. He turned a little redder. "The father of another Templar initiate had a coin collection. I heard him, the initiate, not the father, talking about it." He shrugged. "It seemed silly at the time, but if these are worth more than their value…."

"And Denerim's the only place I can think of to sell these. Even if we just end up doubling what we have now we're a lot better off. Some of the old books and other stuff here might be worth a bit as well, but if it's Grey Warden stuff I'd understand if you don't just want to sell it." I looked around at the group. "So that's three good reasons I can think of to go to Denerim."

"At the cost of how many days?" Sten asked. It's always time with him.

"That's the problem," I agreed.

Morrigan spoke. "Your reasoning appears to be sound. But this side trip would take at least ten days."

"Four days there, or maybe five-" I gave Levi a look. "-two days minimum to do what we need to do, and four or five days back to the crossroads. Then we get to go west again." I sighed. "You're right. At least ten days and probably more. I don't know…."

"Mio amico, you are forgetting something. Denerim has the finest port in Ferelden. I certainly did not arrive here via Orlais."

I looked back at the map. Actually, everybody looked at the map. Denerim sits at the southwest tip of a large bay. Well, duh. We go to Denerim, do our thing, get on a boat, and sail around the coast. Facepalm: apply directly to the forehead.

"Four days to Denerim. Two days for our errands. Four days aboard ship. No time lost. This is acceptable." Sten approves, and there was a general consensus of 'sure' going around the table.

Except for Zevran. "You make it sound simple, but things are more complicated than they seem."

I thought it sounded too easy.

Zevran continued. "I do not think it would be wise for all of us to go to Denerim. After all, neither Sten nor Morrigan are, shall we say, inconspicuous?"

"And I don't think we should give up the cart." Neria gave me a smile. "Jeffrey would be heartbroken if Bill wasn't around."

I glared at her. "Hey. I do like not having to carry all our stuff everywhere, and he – she! – doesn't mind."

Morrigan appeared a little miffed. "So I am not to be allowed to see the wondrous streets of Denerim?" Or maybe it was just sarcasm.

"Trust me," Zevran said, "you won't be missing much."

"So who does get to see the fair city?"

"I guess I do. I've gotta get the armor fitted."

"And me," Leliana said. "If I am to forward a message to the Grey Wardens."

"I will accompany both of you," Zevran said. "I have my own contacts, and should be able to obtain a fair price for those valuables we'll want to sell."

"So who else goes?" Neria asked.

"I think Wynne," Alistair said. "She's a good healer, and-"

Wynne interrupted him with a shake of her head. "No. I'd rather not walk all the way to Denerim. And Neria's never been there. She should go."

"But-"

"And I agree with Jeff. I like not carrying my things everywhere."

"So Neria won't be going with us?" We all turned to look at Alistair. "I mean, she doesn't have to, but-" Yet another blush rose into his face.

Neria had a gleam in her eye. "Oh, don't worry, Alistair." She leaned over and rubbed his arm. "It'll only be a few days. Besides, Wynne's right; I've never seen Denerim, and I'd really like to." She leaned in further and whispered something.

Sten narrowed his eyes and started to say something but I shook my head at him.

Alistair groaned, and he looked very unhappy. But he finally, with another groan, said, "Fine. Just…be careful, won't you?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: I think I'll start answering reviews in my notes. This'll give me a chance to let everybody in on my thought processes, and hopefully you will call me out if I've missed something canon or in story. I'll try to avoid posting any spoilers, but will warn you if I do. So with that in mind:_

_**Sakura Lisel:** There's a process to making the Joining potion, but Alistair doesn't appear to know the details, or at least all the final ingredients. And Neria probably doesn't. Avernus had better know. And at the risk of giving out a possible SPOILER: Jeff thinks he does, but he ain't talkin'._

_Canonically, the potion consists of darkspawn blood, lyrium, and archdemon blood (but that's in short and closely guarded supply), and is designed to deliver a big enough dose of the Taint that one either survives or is killed outright. It doesn't appear that a mage is required to do anything to the potion, although that is hinted at by Duncan. It's strongly implied Grey Wardens can sense each other, but with only Alistair and Neria running around right now Jeff's Conscription (or lack thereof) isn't an issue._

_**Shinkansen: **You're absolutely right. If you, or anybody else out there, knows of any male protagonist DA fics please pass them on in the reviews. And I'm looking for male SI fics to include in my _**Steppin' On It In Thedas** _community._

_**Lionheart77:** Thank you!_

_Milestones: over 20,000 total hits! Thank you, everybody! And 75 alerts; special thanks to **HandicapdHippo** and **Rodianer** for helping me get there!_


	40. Wall to Wall Counseling

**Afternoon**

I still don't know what I think should be done with Avernus, but I will go along with the group. I may end up agreeing to execute the guy. I won't like it, but I'll Well, I guess that's my decision. Leave the guy alive. But then what? Lock him up in his tower? Take away all his lab gear? All his books? Just leave him there in solitary? That _would_ drive _me_ insane.

I've thought about going up and talking to him but what can I say?

Punishment should be unpleasant but not cruel. Okay, I can let him live. But no more research, no more writing. Lock him in a small room. But crap; we're leaving. How do we enforce it? Letting him just starve to death isn't justice. Maybe the best I can do is recommend he not be allowed to do any more 'research.' We'll have to take his word that he won't, and come back and check up on him when we get a chance. If we're still around when all this is over maybe we can.

I'm not totally happy with this decision, but I think I can sleep tonight, so it's probably the right one as far as I'm concerned.

* * *

><p>I may end up skipping dinner, which is a shame because Leliana found a fish pond on the north side of the keep and she's planning on serving us baked trout. But I just don't have an appetite right now.<p>

So I'm alternately writing, trying to patch up the chain mail, and thinking about Avernus and the trip to Denerim when Alistair found me. He dragged me back into to the dining/meeting room; everybody but Leliana was there, and everybody looked grim.

"Here's Jeff," Alistair announced.

"I don't know what happened," I said, "but I didn't do it." When nobody reacted I added, "So what's going on?"

"It's Avernus," Neria said. "If we're leaving tomorrow…. Do you know where Leliana is?"

"No idea."

There was a collective grumble, and Alistair left the room again.

I grabbed a chair. "So, has anything been decided?"

"We are still building a consensus." Sten shifted carefully in his chair; one had already collapsed under his mass.

"How are we doing this?"

Neria answered. "Well, so far we've been talking about whether or not to just- To just kill him."

I just nodded. That's what I figured it would come down to. "And…has a decision been made?"

"Not yet; we're waiting for Leliana."

"And then what?"

"We'll decide."

I thought about that as we waited. And waited. So I wrote the entry just above while we were waiting. I'd have thought everybody would be together already but it was a spur of the moment thing. And now we had a missing party member to worry about. I think we were just getting to point of wondering whether or not Avernus had gotten hold of her when Leliana showed up with a string of fish.

We had to wait a little while longer for Alistair to get back, but at that point we were ready to go. And then I opened my mouth. "So are we voting on this or what?"

There was a series of nods from everybody.

"What if there's a tie? Do we let Cullen decide then?" Even to me that sounded bitter.

"Jeffrey," Neria said, "if you don't want to-"

"No, I have to have a say. But can we at least take a secret vote?"

I explained the concept, and everybody agreed. We emptied a pouch and passed it around. Each person in favor of execution put in a copper; those in favor of something else put in a silver. We dumped out the pouch. 6 copper, 3 silver. I was surprised; I figured the best I could hope for would be 7 to 2. I think everybody was pretty sure how I'd voted, but except for maybe Morrigan I was at a loss for who'd voted with me.

Not much more to say after that. I stayed in the kitchen with Leliana and Wynne while everyone else headed up to Avernus' quarters. They were back in a few minutes. Sten simply announced, "It is done. He was allowed to ingest poison." I guess that's something. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though.

* * *

><p><strong>26 Solace (day 39), very early morning and later<strong>

I didn't skip dinner; that would have been just too petulant, but I didn't feel like eating much either. I didn't have anything to say and rest of the group was pretty quiet. Food was good, though. But I finally went and found a quiet spot outside and tried repair my armor again. When I lost the light I went back in, grabbed my pack, and tried to find another quiet spot. I didn't quite manage it.

Neria looked up from a thick book she was reading. I shouldn't have to say it was old. "Hello, Jeffrey."

"Hi, Neria."

She watched me dither for a moment. "You can stay; you won't be a bother. But are you all right?"

I thought about leaving for a bit then decided I wanted the company. "Yeah, I'm just upset about Avernus."

"You didn't want to kill him, did you?"

"No, but-" I upended my pack out on a handy table. "-I don't know. I mean, I was – am – willing to go along with what you decided. I don't think you were wrong, but…."

"It didn't feel right?"

I gave her a half smile. "I'm supposed to be the old voice of wisdom, not you. But no, you're right. It just didn't feel right."

"What if I said it did?"

I looked at the odds and ends that had fallen out of my pack. "Then you probably made the right decision."

"Well, it felt right. To me at least." I looked up at Neria. She had a slightly defiant look on her face.

I didn't really want to have that argument with Neria. "Maybe I should-" I cut myself off.

Leliana had popped into the room. She was carrying her journal. "Jeffrey, when you- Oh, I am sorry." She looked back and forth between us. I'm pretty sure she could feel the tension.

Neria smiled at the bard. "It's all right; we were just talking." She shook her head. "You two and your journals. Maker, one of you is always writing."

Leliana smiled back. "Sometimes both of us."

"We compare notes," I put in. "Just to make sure we got things right. Although Leliana uses too many adjectives."

"But Jeffrey," Leliana said, "does not use any at all."

The little jibe felt good. "Hey! I'm getting better!"

Leliana snorted. "What did you say about your head? 'I saw stars'?"

"'I saw stars for an instant.'"

"That is not very descriptive."

"That's what happened!"

Neria looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"When we had that that first fight here. Against the demons."

"When Jeffrey was so grievously wounded."

"It was not grievous."

"The side of your head was covered in blood!"

"'Twas but a scratch."

"It was worse than you thought. Grievous."

"Both of you stop!" Neria sounded upset, but we both laughed.

"Do not worry, Neria; we are not fighting."

My good humor had returned. For the moment. "We do this all the time."

Leliana rolled her eyes. "He has no flair for the epic; he does not wish to write a tale for the ages!"

I rolled mine right back. "And she wants every little skirmish to be the last stand against the forces of darkness."

Neria was looking at us like we were both crazier than we felt. I gave her a cheesy smile; Leliana gave her a warm one. She finally rolled her eyes. "So you're not really mad at each other?"

"Oh, I am sorry you thought so, but no. We bicker with each other about our writing because-" She looked to me to finish.

"Because it's fun. The bickering. The writing, not so much all time. It causes cramps."

Neria shook her head at us. "So you write epically and you write…."

"Stoically?"

"Here, listen." Leliana flipped back a few pages in her journal. Quite a few pages. "Ah, yes! 'One of the ancient boards struck Jeffrey upon his coifed head. It was a dire blow; Jeffrey nearly swooned from the impact, but he held his sturdy feet and struck valiantly at the fiend. The fiend, in turn, reached with burning, clawed fingers and to claim Jeffrey's shield as its own. But Jeffrey found his strength and struck at the taloned hand; his shield was released and he fell backwards. A ball of fire burst with the heat of a forge and washed o'er us with a hot, fiery wind that was nearly impossible to stand against. Both Sten and Jeffrey were stunned and fell stricken to the cold stone floor. Jeffrey struggled against his _grievous_ wound to recover his feet, but Sten, despite his own deep resolve, had also been struck down by a vile casting, and lay across Jeffrey's legs." Leliana looked up from her writing. She was pleased with herself, I'd say. (And yeah, I had to go back and copy what she'd written. No way I could have remembered all that.)

Neria looked at me. "Your turn."

I found my journal and read my version of the passage.

"I think I prefer Leliana's. Yours sounds like you're giving Irving a report on the stockroom inventory."

"Look, I'm used to writing reports. Get the facts down quick and simple so anybody reading it can understand it."

"But where is the passion? The excitement?"

"Don't know about you, but I get plenty of that when things are trying to claw my face off."

Neria just stared at us again. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I think Morrigan's right. You're both insane."

* * *

><p>A few minutes later I was inventorying my gear and repacking it. Leliana was in a chair and writing. Presumably with lots of adjectives.<p>

Neria was watching curiously and pestering me with questions. "What's that?"

"Five-fifty cord."

"It looks like thick string."

"It's stronger than it looks; it'll lift Sten."

Neria's eyebrows shot up.

"No, we're not gonna try it."

"Oh. What's that?"

"Sewing kit." I slid it over to her.

Neria unsnapped it. "These needles are so fine! You should give it to Wynne; Alistair's always bothering her to patch his clothes."

Leliana giggled. "Maybe you should give it to Alistair."

"He'd probably sew his fingers together. Ooh, what's that?"

"A watch. A clock for my wrist."

"Why do the symbols keep changing?"

"It's…measuring time."

"But to the heartbeat? Why would you need to be that…precise?"

"Let's say you…had a footrace. You could tell exactly how fast everybody ran."

"Why not just see who finished first?"

Leliana snorted.

"Quiet you! That's a good point. Well, what if you…wanted to see how fast you could run from one place to another?"

"I couldn't. The Templars would yell at us." Neria dropped her voice as low as she could. "No running in the halls!"

Leliana snorted again.

"Okay, maybe- You're just messing with me, aren't you?"

Leliana snorted a third time.

Neria laughed. "Gotcha."

I nodded my head to her. "Well done."

"Thank you."

Leliana looked up from her writing. "Do you remember doing this for the Revered Mother?"

Neria looked confused. "What's that?"

"In Lothering. When the Mother examined your possessions." Her voice turned wistful. "That seems so long ago, but it was only a month, I believe."

"Yeah, I remember."

Neria was still confused. "When was this?"

"Just a couple of days before we met you," I answered.

"You should have seen Jeffrey then. He was lost and lonely." There was no teasing in Leliana's voice.

"And scared and confused," I added.

"You were, but that would have been unkind to say."

"Yeah, but it would've been true."

"Yes. But I knew you were strong, and you have not disappointed me."

I just shrugged at that. "I'm still confused, though. Not scared as much."

That earned me a smile.

"Has it been a month?" Neria asked.

Leliana nodded. "Since we met in Lothering? Yes."

"And it was a month before that when I was…recruited."

"Fate is strange to bring us together so."

"I'm glad I got to meet you – both of you - but…."

"You would rather it was under more pleasing circumstances?"

"Yes."

"Ladies," I interrupted, "this is a conversation that needs to be held with a lot more alcohol than we have at our-" I stopped cold and stared at my hand. When I recovered I needed to swear. "Motherfucker."

The women looked at me, but Neria could see the object I was holding. "What's that?"

I was frowning at my cell phone. I'd planned on turning the thing on with the mages and Alistair present (I wanted to see if they'd get any vibes off it), but one thing and then another got in the way and it kept slipping my mind. "It used to be a way for me to talk to home." I pressed the power button but it didn't even light up. "But not any more."

"Jeffrey! You told the Revered Mother it did not work in Lothering." Leliana was teasing again but stopped when she saw my face. She dropped the lilt. "But I am sure you had your reasons then. But in truth: it no longer works?"

"No more," I said, and all the good I'd been feeling was replaced. Anger. Sadness. Resignation. I could physically feel another link with home snap. I thought about throwing the phone into the wall, but clamped down on the emotions. With a sigh I shoved the phone back into my pack. Deep into my pack.

"How do you do that?" Neria asked.

"Do what?"

"Just not feel anything."

"I don't. I just ignore it. I mean them. My feelings. I don't recommend it; it's not healthy."

"Does it make things hurt less?"

"Makes'em hurt more when I do think about them."

"That might be worth it."

I took a look at Neria. She suddenly looked a lot tireder and sadder than she did just a moment prior.

"Neria," Leliana said, "the hurt will go away. But it will take time."

"I know, but I was- Well, talking with you made me feel better, until- Oh, I'm sorry, Jeffrey!"

Until I'd had my little breakdown with the cell phone. I certainly didn't mean to set Neria off. I guess it showed. "Don't worry about it."

"Jeffrey," Leliana said quietly, "you should not be angry with Neria."

"I'm not. I'm just…really…homesick all of a sudden, I guess." I waved a hand at my crap. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

Leliana stood up. "Let me help, and then you should sleep."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

Neria stood up. "I'll help, too."

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>When I leave the Fade sometimes I wake straight up; other times I end up falling 'asleep' there. I woke straight up this time. The tent was empty; Alistair was gone along with his gear. Strange. I crawled out of the tent. The campsite was empty. Stranger. I found a note by the dead fire. <em>Jeffrey – We couldn't wake you, so we went ahead without you. See you at Soldier's Peak – Neria.<em> WTF? Grabbed my gear; hit the road. Found the cutoff to Soldier's Peak and another note. _Jeffrey – We took care of things here. See you in Denerim – Neria._ Again, WTF? Hit the road again; reached Denerim. Nobody there. At all. The town was empty. No people. No note from Neria. No goodbye. They just left me behind. Threw me away. I couldn't go home, and now I had no place to go here.

I woke up for real with the metallic taste of adrenaline and a set of jangly nerves. Alistair and Zevran were both breathing deeply and softly in their sleep. I made my way to Alistair and touched him lightly. I let out a sigh of relief when he mumbled and rolled over. But I was not going to get back to sleep. I pulled on some pants and made my way out of the barracks room into the kitchen. The fire was barely going but there was a glowstone illuminating the table. Sten was sitting there looking as if he was meditating but turned when I entered the room.

"It's me," I said quietly, and the giant acknowledged me with a nod. I looked around for the teapot, found it and set it near the fire to reheat. My hands were still shaking.

"Did we awaken you?"

"No. Had a bad dream. Real bad dream."

"Like those of the Wardens?"

"No. Just my subconscious telling me things I didn't wanna hear."

Sten didn't answer, which usually means he doesn't have anything useful to say. That was fine by me. I just sat there and stared at the fire and wished the tea would heat up faster.

"Jeff? Are you well?" Wynne's voice was full of concern as she entered the room.

"Bad dream." I checked the tea; it was hot enough, so I took the pot over to the table and poured a mug of Fereldan breakfast tea. Blech. But, at least in theory, it's caffeinated. I poured a second mug for Wynne. Sten declined the offer of a mug of his own.

"Your hands are shaking." Wynne had that mother hen thing going.

"Bad dream."

"Tell me about it."

"Thanks, but I'm good."

"Nonsense! You can barely hold your cup."

I held it up. Rock steady. "Looks pretty steady to me."

"Don't give me that."

"Listen to the boss seraboss," Sten interjected. "Her years grant her wisdom."

"Sten, I would appreciate if you stopped referring to me as a 'dangerous thing.'"

I answered Sten. "And my years don't?"

"You were quite agitated when you entered the room. Sometimes one forgets oneself; wisdom must then be found from without."

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"I disagree."

"I don't think so," Wynne added.

I felt a surge of anger but pushed it aside. "I'm fine."

"Do not bullshit us," Sten said. Way to use my own words against me.

I sighed. Sten wasn't going to let this go. Wynne might, but he wouldn't. "I'm not bullshitting you, but whatever. I dreamed – dreamed – that the bunch of you just got up and left me behind. Neria kept leaving notes about where you were going, but nobody was ever there when I got there."

"We would not simply abandon you."

"Of course we wouldn't!" Wynne put a hand on my back. It was probably supposed to be comforting, but instead felt condescending.

"I _know_ that! I- I just don't- I just don't handle…loneliness. I don't handle it very well. I'm still-" _Upset about Avernus, _but I didn't want to bring that up. "And last night I got another reminder that a trip home is probably out of the question. So mix those two things together and bake overnight and bam! Nightmare."

Wynne gave my back a skritch. "Are you feeling better now?"

"I'd rather be asleep right now. But that's not gonna happen. But yeah, I'm fine. And, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. And thanks, both of you, I guess."

Wynne gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Anytime." Beat. "Sten, don't you have something to add?"

"Your state of mind is important to our success. It is good to see you are well."

I gave him a cheesy smile. "I love you, too, Sten." But the smile was a grimace and the words were harsh.

"Jeff," Wynne scolded, "don't snap at Sten! He's being nice - in his own way."

"Do not intercede on my behalf. Jeff is a…passionate man. Those passions sometimes prevail over his balance." Long pause. "Were you more balanced you would be more certain, and your passions would serve you better."

I guess that was Sten's way of telling me he hadn't taken offense and to stop moping around. I gave him a nod and received one in return.

"Sit with us for a while." Wynne gave me another squeeze. "Just sit. No talking."

"Yeah, I'll do that." But me being me, I fetched the journal and wrote.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Leaving the keep was nowhere near the chore entering had been. We packed up our gear along with a few saleable and useful items and headed out. Morrigan had made a quick recon flight at my request; she's not comfortable letting everybody know about her abilities, but I'm cool with that so I kept quiet. Getting back through the tunnels was still a slow crawl, but it was a lot faster getting out than it was getting in. We made it back to the wagon with no problems, dropped our gear, and headed south. Yeah, I'm not gonna like having to hump it when we head to Denerim. At least we'll be able to load some stuff on Levi's horse.

We got far enough that sometime tomorrow we'll able to split up. We've done a decent job repacking everything, but those of us headed east are obviously traveling light. There are issues, though. Everybody's a bit on edge about the split. Understandable, we're more than halving our strengths for a couple of weeks. Then again, Alistair and company might be in greater danger, but even with Neria gone they might have more raw DPS than us, and Wynne's a better healer. Anyway…

Stopped for the night, started setting up camp, and Alistair's nowhere to be seen when I'm working on our tent. I was a little concerned; I hadn't really taken the time to talk to him since we decided Avernus' fate. But then he showed up carrying a couple of freshly cut practice swords.

"Jeff," he said, rather sharply for him, "grab your shield." He tossed me a sword (wooden).

We hadn't sparred since before heading up to Soldier's Peak, and I was still feeling stressed, and figured a workout would do me good. "Sure. What about armor?"

"Just your padding."

"Gimme a minute." I geared up and headed to the clear spot Alistair was waiting in. Neither of us were wearing helmets. "Keep it away from the face, okay?"

"Right. Whenever you're ready."

Alistair (and the others) taught me a lot these last few weeks, but this was still a Luke vs. Vader matchup. "Yes, my dark lord." The instant Alistair's face registered confusion I leaped at him, bounced off his shield, and used the momentum to get around behind him. I took a wild swing that just clipped his shoulder blade and skipped away before he could retaliate. I couldn't resist a little bit of smack talk. "Old man's still got some moves."

Alistair narrowed his at eyes at me. "That won't work again." There was a timbre to his voice that said he meant business.

_Oh, crap._ Alistair came at me quick, stomping his feet and flicking his shield. He throws that thing around like it's a lunchroom tray. But I held still until he got close and we clashed. There was a brief flurry of pushes and thrusts and parries and then I took a bump that shoved me backwards. Alistair's blade came through with a hard thrust and the impact knocked me on my ass.

"Well done," I said and reached out a hand. Alistair just stared at me. He looked determined. And maybe pissed. I had no idea what I'd done. Still don't. "All right." I shrugged and pushed myself up. The instant I had my feet Alistair was on me again, although this time I was ready for him. I slid away from his attack, but couldn't get off one of my own. Then Alistair whipped his shield around; I stopped it but left myself completely open. I yipped as he smacked me across the upper back with his blade. "Okay, that was good." I walked away wincing from that one.

"Jeff." Dead serious that voice. Scary Alistair. "This isn't a game."

"Well, no shit!"

"That could've killed you!"

"I know! That's why we're doing this, right?"

For an answer he came at me again. I moved at the same time; we hit hard enough to rattle both our cages. We recovered at the same time and somehow locked shields. We shoved each others' shields down at the same time, locked our swords over them, and then Alistair yelled. I'd thrown an elbow that hit him in the side of the head.

"Ow! Maker, why the ear, Jeff?"

"You said this wasn't a game."

"That was well struck." We turned from glaring at each other to look at Sten. He was watching impassively.

Alistair rubbed his head and spoke through clenched teeth. "I guess it was."

"Shock!" Sten snapped. We continued looking at him. "Fight!"

Video game reflexes FTW. Alistair was still thinking about what Sten had said. I punched him in the nose. Not hard, but hard enough. Alistair staggered backwards.

"Andraste's ass!"

"You must be prepared for unconventional tactics from a weaker foe. Shock!"

No cheap shots (and, yeah, it was) this time. Alistair just slammed into me; I slammed back into him. Blows were exchanged, and…

"Ah! Sonoguh!" Alistair had wacked me on the shin, then hard on the shoulder. Both shots hurt.

"Well done, mio amico. Jeff, might I suggest-"

"Shock!"

We ended up locking shields again. Alistair tried my elbow trick but I blocked it, but then his shield snapped up and caught me in the face. I staggered backwards, truly stunned. Alistair just walked up and shoved me to the ground. He turned around to walk away.

"Oh, no," I said. I dragged myself to my feet.

"Jeff, a moment." Wynne walked over to me and placed a gentle hand on my cheek. The pain in my face and head faded away. She shook her head at me. "Now go back to your game."

"You heard the lady." I was panting but ready to rock. I opened up my arms. "Come at me, bro."

For the record: this isn't the dancing stuff you see in the movies. No twirling, no spinning, no jumping. We'd slam into each other like lineman, punch, thrust, and jab, and one of us would take a hit or Sten would call the point. 15, 20, maybe 30 seconds tops. (Hmm. Remember what I said about my lifespan?) We spent at least another half hour bashing each other. I got my licks in, but Alistair gave me three or four for each one I got on him. I may have good reflexes and stamina, but so does he, and he has the advantage of youth and experience.

The entire group drifted over to watch. Sten refereed. Zevran provided both useful and useless commentary. Leliana did, too. Neria stepped in to heal the worst of the damage, and she did a lot of wincing. Morrigan laughed and taunted Alistair each time I got a shot in. Levi kept track of the bets. Cullen barked a lot. Wynne just stood there shaking her head.

Somewhere in there Alistair gave me a shot that knocked me clean on my ass. No big deal except he followed up with a thrust that caught square in the chest and pinned me hard to the ground. It hurt, but not as bad as it seemed to the group. There was a collective 'ooh!' from them but I was more ticked off about all the weight he'd put on the sword while I was stuck under it. Alistair released me after a few seconds and turned away. "Dude, really?" When Alistair didn't answer, "Okay then." I climbed back to my feet and nodded to Sten.

"Shock!"

I let Alistair rush me but skipped backwards then literally skidded to a stop as he closed. I like to dodge to my right; I head-faked and moved left as I dropped my sword. I caught Alistair's wrist as he swung at me, twisted it around, and kicked his feet out from under him. No chance to tuck and roll; Alistair hit hard and square and there was another 'ooh!' from the peanut gallery. Yeah, it was a cheap shot. I grabbed my sword and tapped him as he pushed himself up. "Figured that would work."

"Only once, by the Maker." It wasn't _quite_ a snarl.

"Shock!"

I kept my distance for a bit; I was kinda hoping Alistair would charge me again. He did, but this time I stood there and took it. Then I tried backing out of the melee but my shield got pushed up and Alistair's sword came around and caught me on the leg. That should have ended the point, but Alistair followed through with his shield and didn't hold back. I hunched up my shoulder and rolled away from the impact but I swear it was hard enough to loosen a filling or two.

"Ooh!"

Neria started to walk out to me but I waved her off cheerfully. Somehow I'd gotten the idea that Alistair was trying to test me somehow. "I'm good." I rolled my shoulder and turned back to Alistair. "You're gonna have to do better than that." That wasn't said cheerfully, but deliberately challenging.

Wrong thing to say. About 20 seconds later I came face-to-face with Alistair's shield again, and Neria did need to come out to touch me up.

"Jeffrey, are you sure this is still a good idea?"

I refused to look at Alistair but spoke loudly enough for him to hear. "I'm good. Not my problem if he can't hang."

Neria shook her head at me and checked briefly on Alistair. When she got off the field I saw Wynne lean over and begin talking to her urgently.

Sten started us again, and again, and again. I don't know; maybe a dozen more points. Alistair got another brutal blow in on me, but I got him back on the next point. Then I took a couple more hits. The group had gone quiet. We exchanged hits but Alistair's three to one shot up to about five to one.

Alistair had hoisted his shield one more time, though. I kept mine hanging to save my energy, but tensed up. We were both panting, barely standing up, and barely seeing from the sweat in our eyes. And it was getting dark, so, that too.

"No! No more!" Neria walked in between us before Sten could start the round. She'd already yelled at us a few times but we'd ignored her. "I don't know what's going on but you're done!"

"No more bets! See me for the payout!"

"Wynne!" Neria snapped. "Take care of Jeffrey! Alistair, come here!"

The group broke up; Neria dragged Alistair away somewhere. I just waited for Wynne to get to me. I felt like a wet noodle but I wasn't going to show it.

She walked up shaking her head then wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, you reek."

"Yeah, I know."

A gentle hand came out to caress my forehead and some of the aches went away. "I shouldn't do this, you know. I don't know what came over Alistair, but he wasn't going to back down as long as you weren't."

"I know."

She ran a hand up my rib cage. Something must have been damaged there because I could suddenly breathe easier. "Every time you got back up he felt the need to knock you back down."

"I know."

"You two weren't sparring near the end; you were actually trying to hurt each other."

"Yeah, I know."

She touched my shoulder and the pain there subsided. "You were acting like two little boys fighting over a toy or a cookie. Or…something."

At the time that 'something' wooshed right over my head. Alistair's not jealous of me, is he? It's a thought, but No. But then, he's Alistair. So at the time I just said, "Yeah, I know."

"Stop just agreeing with me!"

"I'm not gonna argue with you when I agree with everything you're saying!"

Wynne just shook her head at me and placed her hand on my chest again. "This would be easier oh, ugh! Come on, stand up." That warm feeling of rejuvenating energy just washed through me and I sagged into Wynne. "Oh, get off me. I don't need to bathe, and I don't want to, either."

The strength came back into my legs. "Well, I want to." I started back towards camp.

"Well, you should. And- Why am I scolding you?"

"Because you should?"

"I suppose, but shouldn't you already know- No. No, you don't. If you knew better you wouldn't have done this."

"I did know better. Well, after I figured out the sparring had turned into a beating."

Wynne stopped walking. "And you did this anyway?" She shook her head at me. "Uh. Men. Wait here." She went over to her tent and rummaged around then came back. "You can borrow some soap and a towel. I think you and Alistair should keep your distance for a while."

I looked over to where Neria was arguing at Alistair near our tent. There was still enough light to see a lot of finger wagging and head hanging. "That's probably a good idea." I sniffed the soap. "Mmm…lavender? No wonder Zevran-" At Wynne's look I shut up and went to bathe.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Slightly long chapter (for me), but I hoped you enjoyed it. Wait. Who am I kidding? Who doesn't like a long chapter? BTW, 'tireder' is _not _a word. My beta reader's (i.e., my wife's) head almost asploded when I insisted that it's perfectly cromulent in context and should stay in._

_**Beta reader comment**: it's still not a word! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!_

**EmbertoInferno: ****Shinkansen's** _review was (I think) referencing the relative scarcity of DA fics with a non-canon male protagonist, although I was thinking specifically of male self-insert protagonists, which are even rarer. And that's a good point you have about Alistair; that's gonna give me something to think about (in a good way). Thanks!_


	41. Delightfully Dull Days

**27 Solace (day 40), morning**

Oy. I've got some impressive bruises and I'm stiff and tired. That was by far the most intense fighting (real or practice) that I've done since arriving here. I've had longer sparring sessions but they haven't been as rough. And even though the real combat I've been in has, it only lasts a minute or two. Alistair's up and moving around; I'm not sure if I'm happy that he seems kind of stiff and achy himself.

And then there was Neria. She caught me right as I was finishing my bath. I tried to beg off but she opened with that classic line. "Oh, I've already seen you naked."

I was too tired to react to that.

Then she lit into me with a lot more energy than Wynne had. "What in the Maker's eye were you doing? I can't have Alistair fighting with you like he does with Morrigan! And aren't you supposed to be smart enough to not do something like this? Eep!"

I'd called her bluff about the nakedness and started climbing out of the water. It was probably too dark to see much but I had startled her. Neria didn't turn away, though, so I guess she called my bluff in return. I wrapped Wynne's towel around my waist and grabbed the clothes I'd washed out. And while I wasn't in the mood to start an argument I really wasn't in the mood to be yelled at by someone my kids' age. "Do _not_ yell at me!"

"Why shouldn't I?"

I just stared at her for a few seconds. Yeah, by then I'd figured I'd fucked up and had an ass-chewing coming to me. I should just stand there and take it and salute (or whatever) when Neria was done. But whatever's going on with Alistair isn't my fault. Then again, I didn't do anything to defuse it, and I certainly made it worse. And what did I say about Neria? She needed us to back her up, and she needed to step up when necessary. So she was stepping up and I was about to tell her to step back down? No. Neria didn't need that complication on top of everything else.

"You know what? You're absolutely right. You tell me what you need to tell me anyway you want." So I came to attention, feet in the creek, wearing only a towel, smelling of lavender, holding on to my dripping clothes, and let a barely post-adolescent mage tear me a new one. And when she was finished I answered simply, "Yes, ma'am. Won't happen again."

So what surreal thing have you done today?

* * *

><p><strong>noon<strong>

We split up a couple hours ago. The basic plan is simple: we'll meet up in West Hill ASAP. Two weeks is the plan; that's 10 August. But, if we don't meet there by 15 August then both groups head to Orzammar. If we don't link up there by the end of August then we assume something's gone very wrong and figure something out and go from there. Here's hoping it won't come to that.

And yes, next month is August! That means my birthday is (technically) a couple of weeks away. I don't know how I feel about that.

Said our goodbyes to each other. With one exception it went pretty well.

**Sten:** "You fought well last night. Alistair is still the superior warrior, but you have proved to be an able student." High praise.

"Thank you, Sten. When we link back up maybe we can go head to head."

A hint of a smile. "That may not be a wise decision on your part. But we will speak on that another time."

"Safe travels, Sten."

"Panahedan."

"Oh, and Sten? Go easy on Alistair. Help him out. Or at least keep him from killing Morrigan."

**Morrigan:** "So you are spiriting away the pretty little thing with whom Alistair is smitten?"

"That's not the plan and you know it."

"So then you are letting the elf-"

Enough of that. "You know what, Morrigan? Have a safe trip. I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

She gave me that appraising look of hers. "Very well. You - and the others - you will be missed. Perhaps some more than others. If you can find a way to leave the elf behind it would be-" She stopped when I narrowed my eyes. "Take care."

That seemed sincere. "Thank you, Morrigan. You, too. And go easy on Alistair. And try to keep Sten from killing him."

A rare smile. "As much as it pains to me to say it, Alistair is an important component to our ultimate success. I will ensure he remains well."

I guess that was the best I could hope for. "Thanks."

**Wynne**: She started by giving me _that_ look. "Ah, Jeff. Keep them out of trouble, won't you?"

"Hey! Why do I have to be the mature adult?"

Wynne doubled down on the look.

"That only works on Alistair and you know it."

She sighed. "You're worse than he is. At least he's too young to know better. Have you spoken to him yet?"

We looked over to where he was speaking to Leliana. He felt our eyes and quickly glanced toward us then away. I looked back to Wynne. "No, but I need to. I'd rather there wasn't any bad blood when I leave."

"So you are a mature adult?"

Cheesy grin time. "Only every third day. It's a good schedule; you should try it."

She gave me a soft smile. "I don't think so. Someone has to set a good example."

"Isn't that where we started this conversation?" I dialed back to a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll keep things under control."

"I should hope so." She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. "Travel safely."

"You, too."

**Alistair:** And then I went to talk to the butthead. (Not that I wasn't being one.) He was talking with Leliana, so I kept my distance until they finished. Then I stood there just looking at him. He looked back. He seemed uncomfortable, or maybe still a little pissed, but did acknowledge me.

Leliana gave me a glare as she walked by me. "Go speak with him." When I didn't move she got behind me and pushed me towards Alistair.

"Alistair."

"Jeff." His voice was flat.

"Hey, look. I don't know what got into us last night but that's not how I wanted to say goodbye. So, uh, whatever I did to piss you off: I'm sorry. And for the cheap shots last night, too."

Alistair stared sullenly at me for a few seconds. "It's…it's…nothing."

"You sure?"

"I'm…sure."

Well, if he didn't want to talk I wasn't going to push the issue. "Safe travels, then." I turned around to walk away but-

"Hey, Jeff."

I turned back around. "Yeah?"

"You'll look after Neria, won't you?"

"Of course I will!"

"I thought so, but…be careful, won't you?"

"I will. You know that."

"All right."

Awkward silence. I broke it. "All right. Again, safe travels."

"Maker watch over you."

"Thanks, and you, too." I turned to walk away but Alistair called to me one more time.

"Jeff. I'm…sorry about last night. I…uh…er…."

"It's okay." I kept going. I still don't know what happened, but we'd talked instead of smacking each other upside the head. We weren't good, but, for the moment at least, we were good enough.

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

The only remaining problem (for the moment) was Cullen. I don't know if he thought the split was a game or something else, but he ran back and forth between the groups until we were well out of sight of each other. And then he took off again.

"I've tried talking to him, but I don't think he understands," Neria said.

"He'll figure it out eventually," I answered. We were walking a little ways behind Zevran, Leliana, and Levi, and losing ground to them in the hope that Cullen would catch back up.

"So you and Alistair…?"

"It was tense."

"Well, he…What did he say to you?"

"We apologized to each other. That was about it."

"Oh, Jeffrey-"

"Hey! At least we talked."

Sigh. "That's something I guess."

"He also asked me to look after you. I guess he's worried. I can't really blame him for that."

"He told me to be careful. Very careful. He's still worried about Zevran; he's afraid he'll try something in Denerim. Collect the bounty on me, or maybe even try to kill me. I told him he was being silly."

My turn to sigh. "Just a hint for the future: when a man tells you he's worried about something, don't tell him he's being silly."

"Oh. I'll remember that."

We walked quietly for a while, at least until we heard a small horse galloping up behind us.

"Cullen!" Neria bent down to him and got a face full of foamy slobber. "What's this?" There was something tied to the dog's collar. Neria worked it loose and unfolded a small scrap of parchment. "Oh! How sweet!"

"What?"

"Alistair says he misses me already."

"You wanna write him back?"

"Do you have a pen?"

"Always." I retrieved it with a flourish and handed it over.

Neria thought for a few seconds then scribbled something on to the parchment. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"Tell him I said, 'hi, and no hard feelings.'" I hope.

"That's nice." She attached the paper into Cullen's collar, but the dog was content to walk with us. "Hmmph. Maybe he won't get it. Stupid dog." But she reached out a small fist and thumped the Mabari on the head. Cullen responded by leaning into Neria and staggering her from her path. She gave the dog a scratch; Cullen huffed and sprinted down the road towards the rest of our group.

Neria picked up her pace. "Come on. Let's catch up before they start talking about you and me instead of you and Alistair.

* * *

><p>Dumbass dog. He waited until he'd found a place to get a good drink then took off for the other group again.<p>

And dumbass me. In all the excitement last night I neglected to pack my tent half. So we made do, but now all five of us are sharing a just slightly too-small tent. I would have sucked it up and slept outside (I did remember my bedroll) but, of course, it's raining. Still, we're dry and reasonably comfortable, so if the girls would stop whispering and giggling I should be able to get some sleep.

* * *

><p>Provided Zevran doesn't try to slide into my bedroll with me. "Head-to-toe, dude, or I start throwing elbows."<p>

Or Neria's. "Zevran, try that again and I _will_ figure out a way to turn your brain into pudding!"

* * *

><p><strong>28 Solace (day 41), late morning<strong>

Cullen showed up in the middle of the night and crawled in with us. At least he shook off before going into the tent. It was super creepy, though, when he showed up in the middle of the night. The rain had let up and there was just enough moon to see by and suddenly I heard a soft gallop. And then the damn dog came into sight and, just for a few seconds, I got that primal fear that cavemen must have got when they spotted a wolf easing through the darkness. I had my sword out by instinct, but Cullen _huffed_ at me, shook himself off, and went in the tent. There were a few shouts of outrage then everybody settled down to some quiet grumbling that eventually turned into silence again.

There was a soft light from inside the tent and I heard Neria's voice. "Oh, poor Alistair. Sten already challenged him to a duel."

* * *

><p>Cold, gray, and rainy all morning. I'd kill for days like this when I was in AZ but here and having to walk in it? Ugh. Couldn't even stay upwind of Cullen. At least I've got dry socks.<p>

Poor Neria. I found out why I haven't heard her having any Warden nightmares and why she likes to sleep on her own or with just Cullen. She's not a vocal dreamer. Instead she starts rolling around and kicks and flails like she's fighting off a horde of darkspawn. Then, if it's bad, she starts mumbling and crying then wakes up and sits there shaking. We didn't get much sleep the second half of the night and ended up breaking camp as soon as there was enough light to see by.

Ran into a detachment of Amaranthine troops; squad size. Levi makes a lot of trading runs through the area; he knew the leader and that kept things from even getting tense. Levi had to pay a road tax (legitimate) and also ended up 'buying the troops a drink' (another tax, but not so legitimate). Two drinks actually; according to Levi both contributions were a bit more than he'd expected. Amaranthine needs coins. Probably to pay for troops and/or food, but we're just making educated guesses. He should be able to make that up with some of the stuff we've given him, though.

The troops weren't even suspicious of us. Zevran had wrapped his cloak tightly and hung his head; he wasn't even noticed. I'd donned my Clark Kent disguise; Leliana and I were mistaken for mercenaries or something, and I explained Neria off as "Chantry business." We were stopped for maybe five minutes, and hit the road again.

* * *

><p><strong>29 Solace (day 42), morning<strong>

"I was certain Alistair was having me on, but I am not so sure now." Leliana poked at a bowl of reheated stew that was her breakfast. It wasn't quite an unappetizing, grey, tasteless mush, but it tried hard.

"I think it's better than it was last night," Neria said.

"I don't know," Levi put in, "it's not the worst I've ever had."

"I find that hard to believe." But Neria kept spooning it in.

"Then why did you eat two bowls of it last night?"

"I was hungry!"

Levi gave her a blank stare. "I was joking. I was certain you were slipping it to Cullen."

The Mabari looked up from his own bowl of the stuff. He didn't have any reservations about the stew's quality. But dogs aren't picky. He licked his chops then went back to slorping up his breakfast. Well, my and Zevran's breakfasts; we'd survived our initial encounter with it but weren't up for a rematch. Bread and cheese were doing us fine.

Neria shrugged back at him. "How long to Denerim?"

"Well, despite the rain we made good distance yesterday what with the early start." Levi winced. "I didn't mean it like that, lady."

Neria looked around at us all. "I'm sorry, everybody."

"Do not worry yourself."

"No big deal."

"It is nothing."

[slorp]

"No apologies necessary, lady. But I was about to say we should arrive probably by noon on All Souls' Day."

My ears perked up at that. "All Souls' Day?"

Leliana answered. "I forget you are not familiar with our customs or our holy days. We set the day aside to remember the death of Andraste, and to remember those close to us who have passed."

"A day to honor the dead?"

"Si, my friend. In Antiva the people will don masks and parade through the strada." Zevran smiled gently. "Some children will be frightened; others emboldened."

"And in the Tower the mages will be subjected to a much longer and more boring sermon than normal."

"Neria!" Leliana sounded indignant.

"It's true! Ah! The Mother loved the sound of her voice. Even the Templars complained about her. Well, some of them did."

"That…is…terrible."

"Why?"

"Because one should take comfort in the words of the Chant."

"We would have taken more comfort being allowed to sleep in."

"Neria!"

"Well, that's true, too!"

I shoved what was left of my breakfast into my face and got up. "Ill ee oo all outh-ide."

Zevran moved as fast as I did, but Levi got caught before he could make his own escape. After yesterday's rain it's pretty nice outside anyway; clear and cool for now, but everything's damp. Especially the armor padding, even though I'd hung it near the fireplace all night. It just never seems to get completely dry. In an hour it's gonna smell of sweat, blood, mildew, smoke, and (sigh) lavender. Not a good combo. Although it is marginally better than Cullen. Maybe.

"That is why I prefer leather; the smell is…ah!" Zevran had that gentle smile again. But then he turned serious. "You are a wise man, mio amico; arguments about one's worship rarely end well." Zevran's face was carefully neutral. "But, if I may ask, with whose opinion are you simpatico?"

"I'm with Neria on this one. Sundays…uhm, worship days? Well, they're for sleeping late and watching football."

"Sleeping late I approve of no matter the day, but football?"

"I'll tell you on the road."

"Very well. Take a moment to write in your diario, and you may tell me of football at your leisure."

Ready to hit the road. Levi looks very uncomfortable. Leliana and Neria are shooting eye daggers at each other. Cullen's farting. It's gonna be a long day.

* * *

><p>The day wasn't as long as it could have been, but it was, thankfully, fairly dull. Neria and Leliana worked out their issue, Zevran's got an appreciation for American rules football (and wants to see Alistair in spandex), and there weren't any encounters of note. Another cavalry patrol stopped us, checked Levi's receipt, and were bought a round of drinks. Cullen's still farting, though. Here's hoping the next two days are just as dull, and that Alistair and company are traveling quietly as well.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>30 Solace (day 43), morning<strong>

"Fire in the hole!" I looked at Thing and shrugged. "Sorry. That means hunker down and stay safe."

I've finally got the M16 summoned and have a loaded magazine to go with it. Mechanically the M16 seems to be working fine. I pulled a function check on it and everything appeared to be working fine. And I pulled another function check. And another. And another. Paranoia I guess. So I slapped the magazine home and manually worked the bolt until the magazine was empty. And did it again. And again.

Frankly, I'm not sure why I was so nervous or what I might have been afraid of. But then I have no idea what happens to me if I get hurt or killed while I'm fadewalking. (Nothing else to call it now thanks to you-know-who. I knew I should have finished reading her grimoire, but too late now.) So I jerry-rigged some rope (next time I'll try conjuring it) and secured the weapon to some stonework. A little more rope got tied around the trigger. I loaded the magazine, chambered a round, retreated to the end of the rope, and gave my warning.

Thing doesn't speak English. Or Fereldan. Or whatever it is I'm speaking now. And I don't speak Thingian. Or whatever. But we've each got this understanding (I guess that's the best word) of what the other kind of means when we're talking. And limb gestures count for a lot. I was hunkered down, and motioned Thing to do the same. He got the idea and took cover the best he could.

"Fire in the hole," I said again, and yanked the rope.

_Crack!_

"No fucking way."

[startled hissing] Thing popped his head up.

"Stay down." I waved at him and he ducked again. "Firing."

_Crack!_

"Firing."

_Crack!_

I popped off half a magazine like that then switched the M16 to auto.

"Firing." One second later: "Yes fucking way!" I gave a fist pump then looked back over to Thing. "All clear."

[confused, questioning hissing]

"I've just changed this little corner of the Fade. Hopefully for the better."

[hissing]

"I'll figure something out." I had the feeling it was too late to try a walkabout, so I added, "Wanna play chess? Or just talk?"

[grouchy hissing]

"Talking it is. Ever play football…?"

* * *

><p>I figured three days of steady walking would have caused Neria to sleep better than she has, but she had another nightmare last night. We've tried to convince her that we understand, but she doesn't want to hear it, and she's feeling bad enough about bothering us. She's sleeping outside the communal tent tonight in hopes that she'll only disturb whoever's on guard.<p>

"That's a nice gesture," I told her, "but you shouldn't punish yourself." I was sitting near the campfire, next to where Neria was tucked in her bedroll. "Cullen's snoring is worse than your rolling around." Cullen was curled up beside her; he lifted his head and yawned at me.

"I don't mind, and I shouldn't be keeping the rest of you awake if…. I don't know how you manage to share a tent with Alistair."

"Most nights he's not bad and I just sleep through it. He's woken me up a few times, but it's no big deal." I'm actually kind of missing sharing a tent with him, but that could just be due to the lack space right now.

"He said he's used to the dreams, and that I'd get used to them, too. But it feels like it's taking forever. Morrigan gave me some herbs to help me sleep, but it doesn't always work."

We were quiet for a bit then I spoke up. "I don't know what to say to that."

"I don't think there's anything you can say."

We sat quietly for a while longer. Then I had an idea. I ducked into the tent and grabbed my pack. I dug deep into it and out pulled my dog tags. "This might help. I had a hard time – a very hard time – sleeping for a while, and this helped."

"What's that?" Neria summoned a tiny ball of light from her staff.

"My dog tags." At her look I explained their purpose. "Gray ones to prove who I am; the red ones tell the doc- healers that a certain medicine will make me sick. And this-" I held out the smaller but heavier yin-yang tag I have on the chain. "-is a symbol of balance."

Neria took a closer look at the symbol. "Balance?"

"Light and darkness. Good and evil. Happiness and sadness. Chocolate and vanilla." Neria gave me a confused look at that last one. (That doesn't bode well for my sweet tooth.) "It's meant to remind one to stay in balance. If you draw a line through the center it'll pass through equal amounts of white and black. You have to go through the darkness to get to the light." I had a minor epiphany. "Kinda like our situation."

"I think I see."

I opened the heavy chain the symbol was on. I took the small chain and the ID tags off it and closed it again. I put the tags on the smaller loop and tossed it into my pack. "Here." I offered the large chain to Neria.

She gave me a panicked look. "I…can't…."

"It's a loan," I said, "not a gift."

"But, it's yours…."

"I think you need it more than I do right now. And I haven't been using it; it's been tucked away since we were in Lothering." Maybe I need to try meditating again.

"But-"

"Just pull it out and look at it and think about it when you get a chance. Try it for the next few days. See if it helps. It can't hurt."

Neria stared at the symbol quietly while I stowed my pack. A few minutes later she very quietly said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And anytime you want to talk I'm willing to listen."

"I know."

* * *

><p><em>AN: it took three days and multiple rewrites to write the 250+ words where I'm talking to Alistair. Guess I'm not good at the touchy-feely stuff. But special thanks to **Beta Reader**__ for helping me through that._

_The update pace is probably going to slow down a bit. There's about 50 days to go to Halloween and I have to get cracking on a set of FoamShep N7 armor for my wife. If possible we'll post some photos when it's done. Expect my 5-7 day update rhythm to extend out to 8-10 days for the foreseeable future. But the next chapter or two should be up fairly soon, and, as always, I'll do my best to reward your patience._

_**The Nemean Lion**: thank you, thank you! I really appreciate the praise. And there are some other good SI fics out there. Check out two of the communities _**MoN**_ is featured in: _**When in Thedas**_, and _**Steppin' On It In Thedas**_. Those two are focused on modern day folks ending up in the DA'verse._

_**EmbertoInferno**: hopefully I've given some answers as to Alistair's thoughts and motivations, but I'll touch on those some more in upcoming chapters. As to his darker side, well, I have the feeling he doesn't much like it, but given his emotional maturity, he also doesn't know how to deal with it._

_**DoorbellSpider**: as much as I love DA:O one thing that really bugged me was how easy it was to walk from one side of Ferelden to the other. Forget to do something in Denerim but you're in Orzammar? No biggie; just click on the map. The worst problem you'd have would be a random encounter. I would have really liked a time feature in the game to actually make it feel like you were working under a deadline._

_**Beta Reader**: **Pegueng** agrees with me about 'tireder'! Hah!_

_**Shinkansen: **this last was a bit of a filler chapter, too, but hopefully things will pick up next chapter._


	42. To Market, To Market

**All Souls' Day (day 44), evening**

The walk today was, again, pretty uneventful. Some other travelers on the road, some soldiers, but again, nothing exciting. Amaranthine and the lands north of Denerim are pretty quiet and safe. To the point, in fact, that some folks we'd talked to didn't seem to believe us about the darkspawn we'd encountered outside the province. Oops, Arling. It's a huge difference from the nearly constant darkspawn on the way to the Tower, and the occasional bandits in Highever. It makes that time seem almost like a bad dream.

Denerim wasn't too hard to spot from miles away. Fort Drakon stands out clearly with those high towers, but there're some other impressive buildings there as well. And of course the place is spread out along a river mouth at sea level, so the last downhill leg into town was a piece of cake. But we did stop for a few minutes to talk about our strategy.

"Ah, fnally," Levi said. "Denerim.

Zevran waived a hand towards the city. "There it is mio amica: Denerim. A lovely sight, no?"

"That's Denerim?" Neria asked. "It's…bigger than I thought it'd be." She sounded a little nervous. Understandably nervous. The biggest place she's seen up to now was probably Danesmouth.

"Do not worry," Leliana said. "Like all places, it has its charms and its faults. It is a matter of knowing where to look for each."

From where we were standing the obvious joke would have been something about a hive of scum and villainy, but I was thinking about other things. Zevran's contacts might have something to say about him being alive. Leliana might end up in trouble with her old mentor. Somebody actually might come after Neria to collect the Warden bounty. And there's what looked like some tears in the Veil. And isn't there a nest of slaver blood mages somewhere? And when does the alienage start getting raided for slaves? Plus there's the usual problems: Templars, and soldiers, and thieves. I must have said, "Oh, my" out loud because everybody turned to look to at me.

"Jeffrey," Leliana said teasingly, "you of all people I would not expect be nervous."

"I'm beginning to think this was a really bad idea." I sighed very heavily. "I've got a bad feeling about this." And, in case you're wondering, I was not trying to make a 20th century home 'verse pop culture reference that would go over everybody else's head; I was actually nervous and saying what I felt.

"It is Denerim." Leliana shrugged. "It is not so bad. Perhaps wanting when compared to Val Royeaux, but as long as we keep our wits about us there should be little trouble."

"I'd prefer no trouble."

"Don't worry, mio amico; there will be no trouble. We'll go into the city, run our errands, and leave. We'll be quick and discreet." And to back up his words, this morning Zevran hadn't put on his regular armor, but rather some old and threadbare, if once fine, clothing. He was, he said, a 'superb semblance of a servant.'

"I know, but…."

"Jeffrey," Leliana continued, "this was your idea."

She was right. And if I'm gonna get this armor fitted…. "Okay. But here's the deal. Everybody: keeps a low profile. Starting with me. Neria, keep these safe, please." I handed her my glasses. I'm getting tired of the Clark Kent thing, but the damn glasses make me stand out everywhere I go.

Neria gave me a questioning look. "Are you sure?" At my nod she tucked them into a handy pocket in her robes. (Those things have more cargo space than BDUs.) "Well, then, uh, first stop is someplace to get supper and sleep. We'll try Wade's armory tomorrow; Jeffrey, it's near the market, right? While that's getting done Leliana, you and Zevran run your errands. And, Levi, what will you be doing?"

Levi gave Neria a small shrug. "Heading back to the family what's here in town. Have some dinner. Catch up on the gossip. See my nephews and nieces." Maybe, eventually, Levi and family will set up operations on or near Soldier's Peak, but it ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Neria gave him a wide smile. "That's good to hear. Shall we go?"

"Yes, lady."

Levi and Neria started off again, but a look from Leliana held me back. Zevran stood quietly by as well.

"Jeffrey," she said, her voice serious, "do you have any concerns about Levi?"

"Concerns as in…?"

"Whether he may betray us?"

I glanced down the road towards the man. Just like the last few days he was just walking his horse and speaking with one of the group. And then the hairs on my neck went up when I realized what Leliana was asking me. "Are you suggesting we should…?"

Zevran spoke up. "Neria, she is too fond of the man to give that order. You are more objective."

"You do know I couldn't condemn Avernus to death, right?"

"And that," Leliana said, "is why we are asking you. You would not make such a decision lightly."

Neria yelled back at us. "Are you all coming?"

"We are!" We started walking as Leliana looked back to me. "But Zevran and I, we have come to our own agreement. We wished to hear your thoughts."

Oy. "I…don't…think Levi would do anything, at least not intentionally, to betray us. He's pretty…good, I guess, with how things turned out. If anything, he'd be more likely to talk about us because he's happy rather than for any reward. Maybe just a friendly – and I mean _friendly_ – reminder to keep his mouth closed for a few days. That and a few sovereigns as a…finder's fee for Soldier's Peak."

Leliana turned towards Zevran. "You see! You are so cynical."

"Yes, but I'm also still alive where others are not. But I will defer to your judgment." He picked up his pace slightly and pulled ahead.

I know Leliana was a bard, and that bards are called for assassination duty, and somewhere in this mess of a life I'd been leading the last month she'd told Neria and Alistair, and somehow the word got around the camp. Alistair had even talked to me one night about it; he'd said, "I could stand to be killed by her." When I'd pointed out that dead is dead no matter who does the killing he'd added, "She's pretty enough that I don't think I mind it." Then he'd blushed and changed the subject. So I took a look at our resident redhead and, because even with that in mind, I didn't (and don't) really want to believe that this very nice girl was seriously considering 'taking care' of Levi.

Leliana was way ahead of me. "I know what you are thinking, and yes, if I thought Levi were a danger to us…well, I would not hesitate to act. But Zevran is more aggressive than I am. I asked your opinion so as to prevent a tragic misunderstanding between Zevran and him."

"'Tragic misunderstanding'?"

"Zevran would have stuck a knife in his heart. Away from Neria, of course. But he trusts our judgment well enough that he will not do this now."

"Wonderful."

"Do not be bitter. You know as well as I that we are living very dangerously right now. Had Levi been a danger we should not have hesitated to-"

"Kill him if necessary?"

"I know it sounds ruthless, but-" Leliana stopped walking and caught my arm. "You are a brave warrior, I have seen this, and you will not hesitate to defend any of us. But you are also a kind man at heart, and there is a great difference between defending one's own and eliminating a would-be threat. Can you be that ruthless if the time should come?"

"I…don't know."

"Neither do I. But know this: had I decided Levi was a threat I would not have spoken with you. He would be-" She stopped and frowned gently. "I believed you would convince Zevran to spare him."

"Then why come to me and not Neria? She'd have said the same thing I did."

"Neria would have forbidden us to take any action against Levi no matter the danger. We still would, of course, but I would rather not defy her so. You…. As Zevran said, you are objective. You will attempt to come to the right answer no matter the consequences. You may not like the consequences, but you will accept them."

That's a scary thought. And I've got to think about it more. Oy.

Leliana nodded her head towards the city. "Do not worry; Levi is safe. Now come; let us not spoil your first look at Denerim."

Too late.

* * *

><p>Getting into Denerim was no problem. We were stopped at the gates and required to pay an entry tax (high again, according to Levi, but he'll do all right with the odds and ends we let him collect to sell). The city was fairly peaceful due to the holiday, but we zigzagged around a bit (just enough to get me turned around) and found an inn that Leliana said was quiet and clean and (most importantly) out of the way.<p>

"The _Lumpy Pumpkin_? You have pumpkins here?"

"Oh, yes. In Orlais they make a wonderful soup of them. The cook here can make it, but it is too early for them." Leliana's voice turned wistful. "The soup; it is a good thing to eat on a cold night."

I smacked Zevran's arm before he could make the obvious comment. That earned me a dirty look.

"Mmm," Neria said. "Robin makes wonderful bread from pumpkins."

"At home I'd make pie from them."

"Pie?" Leliana asked. "That is a strange way to treat a pumpkin."

"It's a custard pie. It's so, so good."

"My brother's wife," Levi added, "makes this wonderful stew. She cooks it in the pumpkin."

Neria was smiling. "And cookies, too. Oh, Sten would love them!"

"I do not understand your fixations on this simple gourd. Now, a good fish stew…."

* * *

><p>We unloaded our gear and bade farewell to Levi. Leliana claimed she had to run a quick errand; she and the merchant went one direction while the rest of us hired a couple of rooms and ordered some dinner. Leliana did join us after a little while; she gave me a reassuring smile that I had a hard time returning. I was tempted to hide in my room after dinner, but Neria and Leliana insisted I sit out with them. Zevran excused himself and headed out for a prowl. I grabbed the journal, Leliana grabbed her lute, and Neria just sat and rested her feet on Cullen and listened sleepily while Leliana played.<p>

I caught the journal up and tried to relax, but I'd been thinking about the slaver thing in the alienage. That's definitely something I might be able to head off, but how to do it? I thought for a while, then thought a little while more, and then drafted out a letter. Or three. (I'm really missing Word right now.) Basically I ended up writing something that seems to be from an anonymous party who has information on potential Tevinter activities. But despite that roundabout citation I made sure my warning was very clear. And then I needed to get it into the alienage.

A while later Zevran looked up from the letter I'd given him. For a change his face was dead serious. "Is this information accurate?"

I shrugged. "To the best of my knowledge. But the plague cover story's been done before; they might try something different."

"This is a claim molto grave, my friend."

"That's why I'm asking for your help. There's no way I can get to the alienage, and they wouldn't trust me if I did."

"This is true, but why do you ask me to deliver it?"

"Because you'll figure out a way to get in. I'd try it myself but all my ideas for getting in mostly involve me drowning."

Zevran's frown relaxed. "That answer is acceptable. Consider it done."

Wait a minute. "What answer is acceptable?"

Zevran flushed slightly but his frown turned into that unreadable expression of his. "You simply believe I can deliver this message to its intended recipients. This is una cortesia I rarely see in Ferelden. For that I thank you."

Whatever he'd picked up on had gone right over my head. "I guess you're welcome."

Zevran nodded. "Your message will be delivered, and I will leave no doubts as to its importance." Another shrug. "Whether they will take heed is another matter."

That was the best outcome I could hope for. "Thanks, Zevran. This was pretty important."

"I agree, my friend." He studied me for a moment. "You look tired."

Knowing this was gonna get done had suddenly lifted a huge weight off me. I was feeling at ease for the first time in a long time. "I am tired."

"Then sleep, and sleep well." He added something in Antivan that was too convoluted to catch.

"Good night, Zevran."

* * *

><p><strong>1 August (day 45), morning<strong>

Don't know if I should be pissed at Zevran or not. I woke up early, and as I climbed out of bed I woke up his elven bedmate. She gave me an evil look and rolled over to probably go back to sleep. Whatever they did during the night didn't disturb me a bit, though.

Getting some breakfast and when the ladies show up we're carping the diem.

**Later morning**

The Denerim market is _huge._ That really didn't surprise me, though. I've been to old, intact European cities and some of those market squares are of a similar scale. It's easily spread out over a dozen acres. Some of the stalls are nothing more than a blanket and a coin box; others are small but sturdy permanent buildings. Dozens of people were already moving about and of course every merchant was trying to get our attention.

"Ooh!" Neria said for the third time. "Sharks' teeth!" The first two times it was handkerchiefs and coconuts.

"Neria…." I warned her for the third time.

"But-" she tried to protest.

"Wade's first; then we can shop," I reminded her. Not as gently as the first two times.

"Jeffrey, show patience with her," Leliana gently scolded me. "This is her first time in the market."

"Yes, sister." I rolled my eyes at Leliana.

"Maker watch over you," Leliana said. She was wearing her Chantry robes. Much less conspicuous than her leathers, but also much less interesting.

Something tickled the back of my brain and I looked around. "Crap! Where's Cullen?" It sucks being the mature adult. For the third time.

* * *

><p>Wade's is a real building facing the market. The place is solidly built and is fronted by a neatly lettered sign; very professional, and it gives off that unmistakable air of 'if you have to ask you can't afford it.' But we approached it with the confidence born of having a lot of cash in our pockets; we were hoping the adjustments would be minor and not cost too much. We could hear clanging coming from inside. The door was propped open so we went on in.<p>

"Good day, sers." A harried-looking man with standard red-brown hair greeted us. Cautiously it seemed.

The hammering from the back stopped and a voice rang out. "I can't work with all these interruptions!"

"I just wished customers a good day! I didn't say a word to you! Go back to work!"

"Work? You know this is art! Ah!" The clanging resumed.

I made a clank of my own as I dropped the bag with the – my – armor. "I need to get this fitted."

The clanging stopped again and a bald man with an epic mustache surged out from the workshop. "Too. Much. Noise!"

The front desk guy intercepted him and spoke through gritted teeth. "Wade. These are customers. Hopefully paying customers."

"And what will they pay me to do? Hammer out a dent from a beer mug? Fix a link that was caught on a door latch?" Wade huffed. "My talents are wasted on such trivialities."

FDG gave me an apologetic smile then turned back to Wade. "Your talents keep customers coming in. Those trivialities keep coin coming. And _my_ talents keep coins in the box and food on the table. You do like to eat, don't you?"

Wade's bluster disappeared. "Yes."

"Then shall we see to this gentleman's triviality?"

"Oh, I suppose."

FDG gave Wade a hug and smile. "And then we'll go get a nice cup of tea."

"And a pastry?" Wade asked.

"And a pastry."

"That would be nice."

"But first let's take care of this nice gentleman and his lovely companions."

"If we must."

FDG let Wade go, walked over to me, and offered his hand. "Herren's the name, ser, and what can Wade and I do for you today?"

We'd just been standing there watching the crazy but I recovered quickly enough. I grabbed Herren's hand and nodded at the bag the armor was in. "I need to get this fitted. I just acquired it and-"

"Show me the dent." Wade voice was put upon. He snatched up the bag and lifted it onto the counter with a lot less effort than I'd have needed. But then the guy is an armorsmith.

"It's not damaged. At least, I don't think it's damaged. It just doesn't quite fit."

Wade stopped fussing with the bag. "Fitting? A fitting? You want a man of ow!"

Herren had thrown a totally unsubtle elbow into Wade. "My partner is right. You could have selected any other shop to be fitted at. But we're honored you chose us."

"Well, it's pretty special, and I wanted the best." I patted a pocket; there was a quiet jingle of coins. "And I'm willing to pay for it. I'll even buy that pastry for you."

Wade huffed again. "What's so special about it?"

"Just…take a look."

"Very well." It only took a moment and, "Maker's breath!" Wade tore through the bag, examining each piece carefully, laying them on the counter as he found what he was looking for. "Caddell!" he said reverently, over and over.

I looked back to the ladies. "Okay. You two go shop while Wade takes care of me."

* * *

><p>"That's a different look for you. I like it."<p>

Neria wasn't wearing her normal robes, but rather a tunic and trousers. The tunic's a bit darker green than her robes but was a little snugger on her. (Like all of us she's been losing weight from the time on the road.) And it appeared to have plenty of pockets for all the odds and ends she likes to keep at hand. The pants are tighter as well, but brown and made with good fabric that I don't recognize.

"We were lucky," Leliana said. "Another traveler ordered these clothes but never claimed them. The tailor was happy to be rid of them at a very fair price."

I thought Neria was pleased with the new outfit but she gave me a little frown. "I'm not sure I like them. The trousers squeeze my arse and rub my muff."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes at her.

"Oh!" Neria gave Leliana a disappointed look. "You said he'd turn red."

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

"Those smell delicious."

The pie man grinned greasily at me. "Thank you, ser! Make'em myself, I do."

Neria needed food badly and I kinda needed a snack, but I wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into. Or rather, what would get into me. "What's in your pies?"

"Pork, and, er, fowl, ser. One of each?"

"What kind of fowl?"

"Squab, ser."

I could handle that. "Four of the-" A thought tickled the back of my head. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Dibbler, would it? Or Cut-Me-Own-Throat? Or any variation thereof?"

He looked at me like he knew I felt insane. "No, ser," he answered carefully. "The name's Flip."

"Good enough. Four of the fowl pies. From that stack." I pointed to the ones fresh out of the oven. No sense taking unnecessary chances.

"They're piping hot, ser."

"I know. Four of 'em."

We juggled the pies and some coins back and forth. I tucked the extras into the pack with my other purchases then broke off a corner of the last. Onions, carrots, potatoes, a little bit of (hopefully) pigeon meat, a lot of steam, and…. "Are there any walnuts in here?"

"Walnuts, ser.?" Now he was giving me that 'if I keep smiling he'll go away' look.

"Never mind. Just wanted to see if the multiverse is messing with me." I shrugged and blew on the smaller piece and popped it in my mouth.

His expression didn't change. "Well, ser?"

I answered honestly. "Best thing I've ever eaten in Denerim." It was – truly - pretty good. Leliana and Neria liked them, too.

* * *

><p>The poster has a fairly well drawn picture of Alistair's face on it, although his hair's a total mess, and he's squinting. <em>This Grey Warden is wanted,<em> it says, _for high treason against the Crown. An arrest will recoup his finder 30S._ (I'm assuming that means sovereigns and not silver.)

And then there's my poster. _This man is wanted by the Chantry. His finder will receive 3S._ I don't have anything to worry about, though, as long as I keep my glasses off. The drawing could be pretty much anyone in Denerim, but the artist added a BCG-style frame over the eyes. Guess everything's gonna stay fuzzy for the next couple of days.

We looked, but Neria doesn't seem to have a wanted poster. There is one for (we think) Morrigan; as a known apostate she's worth five sovereigns. We decided not to tell Alistair about that.

"I'm a little insulted," Neria said quietly as we walked away from the notice board. "I should be worth at least as much as Morrigan, don't you think?"

* * *

><p>Zevran linked back up with us in the early afternoon. He'd found buyers for a few of our items and did pretty well. Nearly sixty sovereigns total; too bad we didn't have the time to get the best price for the stuff. So, even after what I paid Wade and Herren (including a small premium for the rush job), what we're spending at the inn, and our purchases in the market, we're at least fifty sovereigns ahead. And we still have a couple things left to sell.<p>

We headed back to the market and went on another semi-restrained shopping spree. We bought socks. Lots of socks. Some more blankets. A large tin which was later filled with cookies. ("For Sten!" Neria said.) Some spices. An imported mummified Orlesian cheese. ("For Alistair!") Soap. And scented soap. ("For us ladies. And Zevran." Sniff. "And you.") New armor padding. Blank journals and ink. What looked like a brontosaurus' thigh bone. ("For Cullen!") A couple packs to haul it all in. All we have to do now is hunker down and wait for Wade to finish the armor.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

"Come, mio amico; I have a treat for you."

I rubbed my eyes. Long day and good dinner had me tired; I'd have rather gone to bed. But knowing Zevran…. "Is it illegal or immoral?" Thinking back though, a touch of either would probably do me good.

"Neither, although you have given me an idea for later."

"Oy. Do I wanna know?"

"Come, my friend, it will do you good."

Leliana waved a hand at me. "Go with him, Jeffrey. Just be careful."

"Go on," Neria added. "We'll be fine.

With some trepidation I let Zevran lead me back into the Denerim streets, down an alley, and into a mugger. The fellow waved a knife at us; Zevran and I both drew our own weapons and waved them back. The mugger shrugged, gave us a short bow, and went on his way; we continued on ours. "Quite the professional," Zevran opined. Destination…

"A bath house? Zevran, I take back every nasty thing I've said and thought about you the last few days."

"You are too kind."

I had a deep, long, hot soak. Hot and long enough that I broke out in a sweat. I cooled down with some cold water then scrubbed clean with the help of a pretty brunette. But instead of what Zevran had paid a bit extra for I had her shave me. She seemed a little disappointed, but was understanding. I was a bit nervous at first, but it beat trying to not cut my own throat by accident. I tipped her nicely (I think), donned my cleaned clothes, and waited for Zevran in the lobby until I fell asleep.

"Ah! Mio amico! Please tell me you are not celibato."

I looked sleepily at him. "Zevran, you, of all people, have to be aware of my relationship status." 'Complicated' doesn't begin to describe it.

"But your donna, she is half a world away, no?"

I wasn't upset at the question but, "I'm way too relaxed to be having this discussion right now. Change the subject."

"Very well." He gave me an appraising look. "Hmm. I think you look better with your beard."

"I didn't shave for you."

"Oh, I know. But your beard, the grey gives you age; experience. The look of a veterano."

"But it itches."

"Si, but the look! People are more wary around old soldiers."

"Because they're old soldiers."

"Ah, yes! I see you understand."

"But it itches."

"You are crazing me, mio amico."

* * *

><p>Back to the Lumpy Pumpkin. We were expecting to find the girls, but there was nobody at the table. There was, however, the wreckage of a meal on it. And a Mabari butt sticking out from under it. And a bare leg sticking out from under the Mabari.<p>

Zevran shrugged. "I am not certain, but that-"

"Helloooo!" Neria peeked out from under the table. She wrestled with Cullen and popped up. "Jjjjjeffrey!" Neria threw her arms around me and _hugged_. I felt a vertebrae pop.

I heard a quiet chuckle from Zevran. "Neria?"

"Zzzzzevran. That's fun to say. Zevran. Zevran. ZevranZevranZevran." Neria looked up at me drunkenly. "Jeffrey!" She ran a hand over my face. All over my face. "Oooh, ssssmooth."

Yep, drunk. "Uh, Neria?"

"Mio capo?"

I gave Zevran an accusing look and he returned the favor. We both changed our looks to confusion, then suddenly enlightenment. "Leliana," we said at the same time.

"Shhhhheeee's not here!"

"Kinda figured."

"Where is she, oh magus brillo?"

"Shhhopping."

I tried to ask Neria why she wasn't with Leliana but Neria giggled and plopped down in a chair. "Brrrrandy!" She reached for what I'd thought was a large beer or maybe a small wine bottle and tried to pour the contents into a cup. Some of the liquid missed, fortunately, but the bottle looked, unfortunately, about half empty. I had a good idea where most of the missing contents were. "Ffffffor more brandy, I hope! Leliana was sssssso nice; she bought me a bottle of brrrrrandy! And it'ssssss tasty!" She sat up straight and gave us both a solemn look. "I have never had brandy before. The ffffffucking bastards wouldn't let us have it." She lowered her voice as far as she could and started wagging a finger. "Strong drink is bad for mages. You'll lose control of yourselves and then we'll have to kill you all!"

Zevran and I took seats to either side of her during this short monologue.

Neria stuck her face into mine. "Jjjjeffrey!" She really loves those first letters. And, apparently, the brandy. "Oh, Jeffrey. Yyyyyyou wouldn't let them kill me. You're my big, strong, brave, bbbrave, mmman…fellow…Jeff who stands in front of me and is brave." A hand suddenly slapped my upper arm. "And you're so…bbbbbrave to stand there-" The hand suddenly squeezed my arm in a curiously and disturbingly assessing manner. "-with this big, bbbbrave arm."

I looked at Zevran helplessly.

He tried to come to my rescue. "Ah, mio capo bella, you insult me. You ignore my arm; it is longing for your attention."

Good try, but Neria wasn't buying it. "Jjjjjeffrey's got bigarms!" She turned and gave the elf a drunkenly graceful stare. "Your arm is scrrrrrawny! Scrrrrawnyscrawnyscrawny!"

Zevran appeared genuinely insulted. "I'll have you know my arms are muscled and-"

"Scrrrrawny. But strrrong. Not like mmmages. They're soft. But still scrrrrrawny." Neria turned around and tried to push my sleeve up, but, when she couldn't, tried to rip the sleeve from the shoulder.

"Hey, that's new!"

"Oooh, I'm sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, but-"

_Rip!_ Neria grabbed my now bare upper arm and tried to shove it in Zevran's face. It was hard to do considering she was sitting between us. "See. Bbbbbig."

She reached for Zevran's sleeve but the elf was too quick. "Jeff has very nice arms; I believe I have told him this. And yet he has not, no matter how nicely I ask, put them around me."

"Oooh!" Neria grabbed my arm again and pulled it around herself and snuggled into me. I shot Zevran a dirty look; he just grinned in return. "Nicccce, bbbbigarm. Good on the shoulder."

"Ah, but see-" I felt Zevran reaching behind Neria. "-a smaller arm can fit more comfortably around one's waist, no?

Neria twisted in her seat. There was a flash of light. My arm was only flung off her, but Zevran was tossed a few feet backwards along with his chair. He hit the floor hard and actually needed a few seconds to clear his head. Neria's hair was standing out; just slightly, as if she was holding a static charge. More ominous was the ball of power she had in her hand. I reached out and grabbed her wrist without thinking.

Neria turned around and stared at me. I could hear her eyes trying to refocus. "Jjjjjeffrey! Did you see what I did? I didn't kill him. Sssseeeee. Brrrandy is good for mages!" She reached for her mug, but I grabbed her free hand. "Oooh, you better let gooooo." She actually looked a little ticked off.

I thought fast. Real fast. "Can I try it? The brandy?"

"Yyyyyes!" The hint of anger in Neria's eye was replaced by glee. "It's good! Try it!"

I grabbed the cup, sniffed, blinked, and threw it back. Not bad until the burning hit, but I've had worse. It's certainly better than soju. Zevran was getting shakily to his feet; Neria must have hit him harder than I thought. "Tastes like…berries?"

"Yesss!" Neria actually leaned over and hugged me around the neck. "I tttttold you it's gggggood! Have ssss'more."

Actually, I kind of did want some more brandy, but talking down a drunk mage kinda took priority. "Maybe in a little bit."

"Nnnnope. Now. Or I'll…I'll…I'll…." Sad face time. "I don't want to hurt you, but please drink s'more brandy." Goodbye sad face and hello happy. "If you do I'll kiss you."

Zevran was back up, and, despite looking a little rough, was grinning again.

I looked at Neria. "Tell you what. I'll have some brandy; you won't need to kiss me. Is that okay?"

"Oh, no! You must kiss him. You gave your word."

"Zevran…."

Neria looked back to the elf. "You'rrrrre right; I did pppppromise." She leaned forward happily and splashed more brandy in and around the cup. "Herrrre you gggggo!"

I hoisted the cup. "L'chaim."

Neria grabbed my hand before I could drink. "Luh-what?"

"L'chaim. It means 'to life.' To being alive. To enjoying the moment because you are alive."

Neria's head rolled around. "Iiiiii llllike that!" She snatched the cup out of my hand. "Luh-kime!" A large fraction of the booze ended up on her; a larger fraction ended up in her.

"Jeffrey!" Zevran said. "She stole your drink!" The bastard.

Neria looked shocked. "I'm sssso sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgive you."

She examined the mug she was holding. "There's some left! Luh-kime!" She held it up to my lips.

"Alla vita."

_Fuck you, Zevran._ "L'chaim."

With Neria's not so helpful help I got the shot down. I blinked and saw Leliana coming in the door. I caught her eye and mouthed _help_.

"Neria?"

Neria leaped to her feet. "Llllleliana! Did you bring me more brandy?" She rushed the redhead and hugged her.

Leliana tried not to recoil from the assault. "Neria, how much have you had to drink?"

"Just a little bit."

I pointed helplessly at the bottle and vaguely indicated _about half_.

"Oh, dear. How do you feel?"

"Ffffine. I fffffeel ffffffiiiiiiine."

Leliana actually looked a little worried. "You were only supposed to sip it."

"I ddddid! And it was ggggood! So I sipped s'more. And then Jeffrey and Zevran came, annnnnnd they sipped with me. And then Zevran tried to feel my tit so I ttttttossed him across the room. And then Jeffrey took a drink ssssso now I have to kiss him."

Leliana's eyes narrowed at Zevran during this, but she flicked me a quick and kinda angry glance. I pointed at myself and shook my head.

Zevran, OTOH…. "I am guilty of nothing more than wishing to see her passions alight. At the expense, I will admit, of our friend. But, perhaps if you were to indulge as our leader has, your own passions would be inflamed, and we would all enjoy the evening more."

"Zevran," I said, "you're lucky she didn't throw you through the wall."

"Si, mio amico, but nothing ventured…. Am I right?"

"You nearly got me thrown through the wall."

"And for that I do apo-"

"Oh, Jeffrey, I'm sssorry!" And now I had a sloppily drunk mage hugging me tightly. "I'd never hurt my man who stands in front of me."

I looked at Leliana and started to ask for help again, but instead decided to look behind her and say, "Aw, shit!"

Zevran saw what I saw. "Andraste's tits!"

Leliana looked back over her shoulder. "Oh, dear."

Cullen scrambled to his feet.

"Tttttits!"

"Mage!"

"You sounded just like a Templar!" Neria lowered her voice again. "Mage!"

"Mage! Turn around."

"Mage! Turn around." Neria looked up at me and giggled. For a brief, panicked instant I thought she was going to kiss me, but then I realized she realized there was actually a pair of Templars in the room. That look did not bode well for our immediate future. But then Neria leaped off me and started fumbling in the pockets of her robes. "Fffffucking bastards can't ssssodding touch me! _I've_ got a ppppppaper!"

The Templars were shifting like they were ready to draw their weapons when Neria startled everybody with a sudden, "Ha!" She unfolded something then triumphantly held up a parchment with the writing side towards me. I saw a couple of seals on it before Neria cursed again and turned the parchment around to face the Templars.

"What is this?" The Templar's voice was muffled by his helmet.

Neria put on an air of affronted dignity. It would have worked better if she was sober. "S'my letter of travel. Iiiii can go where I want, and you can't stopme."

I leaned forward. "Neria, do not taunt the happy little Templars."

"Come on! Tttttake a look!"

The Templar stepped forward and took a quick look at the parchment then snatched it from Neria's hand. She just stood there happily swaying while the Templars examined the paper and muttered back and forth between themselves. "Name," one of them finally grumbled.

"Nnnnneria Ammmmmmell."

"Chantry name."

Neria deflated. Her head dropped and her shoulders sagged and the defiance dropped out of her voice. "Solona Amell. Fucking bastards."

"Distinguishing mark."

Neria held up her left arm and started fumbling with the buttons on her sleeve. She looked around and zeroed on the first familiar face she saw. "Zevran, help me, please."

"I would be delighted." It took the elf only a couple of seconds to unbutton Neria's sleeve to her elbow.

He would have kept going except Neria started waving her arm around and squawked at him. She yanked her sleeve back and showed a pale arm to the Templars. "Happy?" There was a mark on her forearm, but I didn't see the pattern because…

"Other distinguishing mark."

"Really?"

The Templars just stared.

"You ffffucking bbbbbastards! Fffine!" She spun around to face me again. "Jeffrey! I need ssssswear words. Something…creative."

"Uhhhhh…."

"Fffine; I'll come up with something myself." Her face lit up. "I'vvvvve got it! You're fffucking bastards. Here's your mark!"

Neria knelt down, grabbed the hem of her robes, raised her butt in the air, and yanked her skirt up over her hips. She looked at me with a satisfied grin and winked. Leliana started laughing and turning red. I decided a facepalm was in order.

Zevran stared as intently as the Templars, but for his own reasons. "There is a story there that I must discover one day." He had a slightly curious and more than slightly lecherous look on his face.

I wished I could have seen the Templars' faces. They just stood there staring out of their helmets at Neria's bum. But one of them finally tossed the paper on the table. "No more drinking, mage," he growled.

"I have a ppppaper!" Neria dropped her skirts, spun around and grabbed the brandy bottle and tried to take a swig, but Zevran, Leliana, and I all managed to stop her. Barely.

I ended up with the bottle. Leliana ended up with the parchment. Zevran got an armful of intoxicated mage.

"It's a letter from Irving and Greagoir. With their seals."

"Thas'right," Neria said as she stumbled away from Zevran and into Leliana. She grabbed her manumit and waved it at us. "Got one from Duncan, too. Only good thing he did for me. Fucking bastards." With the great care only available to the intoxicated she refolded the paper and tucked it away. She turned back to the Templars. "Now sod off! Both of you!"

"Mage, you will-"

"Why don't we all calm down and let the evening get back on track." I stepped in between our group and the Templars. I could distinctly feel my lack of armor and weapons, but I was able to look the Templar directly in the eyes. Or the eye slits, at least. I thought back to a similar situation I'd experienced in Okinawa. I held up the bottle. "Would either of you care for a drink?"

Their responses weren't as polite as the Japanese police's had been, but I could feel the situation slowly diffusing. "Put her to bed."

I nodded to the Templar. "I'll make sure that happens."

"Soon."

"Soon," I agreed. Real soon, I hoped. "Good night, gentlemen." I gave them a thin smile, but maintained eye contact.

There was a very cursory dip of a helmet and the pair turned away. I just stayed where I was until the door closed behind them. I let myself go limp and turned around.

"Well done, mio amico."

"Thanks." I rubbed my eyes and looked at the bottle.

"So. Is there any brandy left?"

Neria's head jerked up off Leliana's shoulder. "Brrrrandy! Give my sister a drink!"

Leliana rolled her eyes but smiled. "We are sisters now." She grunted as Neria hugged her. "And, Neria, sisters like to have long talks before going to sleep. Would you like to go talk?"

"I wwwwould lllllove to talk."

"But we will have to go to bed."

"But we can talk?"

"We can talk."

"Like sisters?"

"Yes, like sisters!" Leliana grunted from another power hug. "Now, tell Jeffrey and Zevran good night, and we shall go talk of many things."

Neria slammed into Zevran like a moving van. "Good night, Zevran, my scrawny little friend." She kissed him square on the lips. But before he could react she jumped at me. "Good night, Jeffrey with the big arms." Her arms went around my neck and she pulled herself up to give me a quick kiss. Neria dropped off me and snatched the bottle from my hand and a cup off the table. She dumped more brandy into it, and went back to Leliana and kissed her, too. "My sister!"

Leliana was still smiling as she murmured something in Orlesian then said, "My drunken little sister. Let us go to bed." She led our drunken little sister away as Neria chattered happily.

Zevran and I exchanged stares. Mine was exasperated; I think his was amused. "So," I asked, "did she leave us any-"

"Jeffrey!" Neria's voice came down the hallway. "I remembered. Motherfucker! That's what I wanted to call them! Motherfucker! Motherfucker! Motherfucker! Motherfu-" She was cut off as a door slammed.

I let out a huge sigh and started ask about the brandy, but Neria's voice rang out again.

"Jeffrey! What does motherfucker mean anyway?" Beat. Beat. "Never mind." Slam.

Zevran handed me a cup. "No, there was not much left, but I will find us another bottle."

"Be sure to tip the bartender real well." I raised the cup with yet another sigh. "L'chaim, motherfucker."

* * *

><p>I woold have loved to stop that right there, but I suppose this little epilgue is in order. Zevran did indd find another bottle of brandy. I fetcheddiary and started wriing. And drinking. Although I stopped with a nice buzz, and I dont think Zevran doesn't appear to be feeling anything all<p>

Epilogu: "Zevran, my friend."

"Si, mio amico?"

"I kno we're sharing as roon, but if I wake up naked with you nestxt to me Illpunch you in the teeth."

":Iwould expect nothing less of you, mimico."

_My friend Jeff's hand is unsteady so he asked me to write this addendum. "Zevran," he said, "let me rephrase my last statement so I'm perfectly clear: I do not want to punch you in the teeth."_

_I understand, but it is such a shame. His arms, after all, are made to hold one._

Aint gonna happn zev

Ep2

Lelian came down a little bit ago and dropped into her chair. She drink straht from her bottle – our bottle but is hers now. Shes angy but wont say y. "I promisdNeria I woudnt tell." She took nother drink. tehyre all fucking bastards."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Milestones: 25,000 hits approaching! And, I guess, Chapter 42. (After all, 42 is my favorite integer.) And a personal best for chapter length (7000+ words), although it almost wrote itself._

_Story shout out: please check out _**Charade's Excellent Adventure**_ by _**Yathandra**_ and let her know what you think!_

_Armor build update: chest, back, and collar pieces are cut and detailed. Still need to shape and paint them. I'm thinking lavender…? Maybe puce?_

**Pegueng:**_ Fortunately, or unfortunately, Alistair and Jeff have a few more things to say to each other. I'm not looking forward to writing that, but I do have a good beta reader backing me up._

**great northern one: **_Don't know if there's gonna be a party in the Fade, but Jeff's actions will have repercussions._

**Garret Hawke:**_ Thank you!_

**Beta Reader: **_What's wrong with puce?_


	43. Kinda Like Wisconsin

**2 August (day 46) late morning**

I woke up horizontal (which is usually a good thing), clothed (same), having to pee real bad (expected), and next to Leliana (also clothed [which was also probably a good thing][but unexpected]). I didn't know the status of her bladder but from her deep breathing she wasn't likely to wake soon. You're probably wondering why I was in the girls' room. Don't worry; I did too, but for just a few seconds. Then I remembered Zevran had disappeared for a while then shown back up with a woman (or maybe two; things were kinda blurry) and said (more or less), "Since you refuse to get our money's worth from our room, I shall do so. You – both of you – are welcome to join us, though."

Leliana and I just shook our heads at him. But when Zevran disappeared Leliana turned to me. "You should not have to sleep out here. Come share our room." I don't know what my face did because Leliana turned red. "I do not mean it that way! I trust you to just sleep."

"Again with the trustworthy?"

"That is not an insult!"

We ended up just crashing in the same little room. Leliana poked Neria multiple times; the girl was sprawled out and snoring like Sten. She finally got the mage to give her some space so I blew out our candle and laid myself down. Some indeterminate time later I woke up to Leliana snuggling into me. "Neria won't hold still." And she was snoring again. (Neria, not Leliana.) Trust and other issues aside, I have to say it was nice having someone to cuddle. Anyway…

I extricated myself from Leliana, somehow found my shoes but not my socks nor my glasses. (I'd really like to not lose them; I might be able to get a new set made, but don't wanna deal with the hassle. I trust Neria to take good care of them, but can you blame me for being a bit paranoid about them?) The room was too dark to search, so I slipped out and headed for the jakes.

"Jeffrey! Good morning!"

I gave Neria a grumpy stare from across the room. Well, the best I could considering she wasn't in focus. "You are way too cheerful for all you drank last night."

It was hard to tell but I thought she looked a little bleary, but that could have been from hunger. She had another epic meal piled up in front of her. But her answer was a disbelieving, "I know! I've been hung over before on a lot less." She looked around real quick and lowered her voice. "Maybe it's a Grey Warden thing. I remember drinking-"

"A lot?"

"Well, it was good! And I wasn't really feeling it."

"Not from my perspective."

"I was just teasing you and-" Her eyes got wide. "Oh, Maker. I did moon those Templars, didn't I?"

"And called them 'fucking bastards.' Several times."

A variety of emotions passed over Neria's face before she settled on satisfaction. "Good."

I nodded and my stomach growled. Neria's growled back. "Eat," I said. "I've gotta hit the head. We'll continue this discussion when I get back. Young lady." I tried to sound scolding but didn't pull it off. "Oh, have you seen my glasses?"

Neria nodded around the slab of ham she was stuffing into her face. "In th'room."

"Thanks. Cullen, you wanna go out?" The Mabari scrambled to his feet and spit out a bone. "Come on." We headed outside.

Neria called out to me before I reached the door. "Jeffrey, you and Leliana looked so cute together!"

"Grumble, grumble." Found the jakes and did what I needed to do, but finished up quick when I heard the dog scratching at the door. "What's wrong? Alley cat after you?"

[urgent whine], followed by a nasty look. Then Cullen took off around the corner. I shrugged and followed him back to the inn's door. He stood and pawed at the latch but couldn't get the door open.

"Sucks not having thumbs, huh?" I opened the door and Cullen shoved past me and into the room. I followed him in but stopped as I saw four armored and armed men surrounding a nervous Neria. I'll give her credit. I know she saw me but she didn't even twitch in my direction. Tower experience, I guess. But her non-reaction didn't matter.

A dark-haired man was speaking to an older, gray-haired fellow. "…of your-"

"'Ware the dog!" came a muffled voice as Cullen worked himself between Neria and the Older Fellow.

"Where'd he come from?" asked another.

Okay, this wasn't good. Then it got worse. All four of the men turned and looked right at me. The two standing nearest me reached for their swords but didn't draw. I thought about running for all of two seconds; the only thing that stopped me was that I didn't know what would happen to Neria, and there was no way I was leaving her behind.

"This is none of your concern," one of the helmeted guys said.

The dark-haired man spoke again. "Hold, ser," he said to me then turned to OF. "I saw this man with the Warden at the market yesterday."

OF turned to me. "So you stand with the Warden?"

Neria gave me a small head shake but I ignored it. Neria was my responsibility. I'd promised Alistair I'd take care of her. Even with whatever's going on between us there was no way I was going to let him down. "I do."

OF glanced back at Neria then fixed me with a steady gaze. "You were not at Ostagar, were you? Then know this first: I am Ser Landry. I was in Cailen's army at Ostagar, and it was only through fortune that I and those with me survived. And second: I have demanded satisfaction for her cowardly-"

"Jeffrey," Neria interrupted, "he won't listen when I try to tell him-"

"Enough of your lies! And I will not hear you slander Teryn Loghain again, either!"

[warning growl]

I raised what I hoped were calming hands. "Why don't we all just settle down and discuss this-"

"No!" Ser Landry snapped. "I seek…." He stopped and took a calming breath, but it didn't seem to help.

The dark-haired fellow continued. "If I may, m'lord? Ser Landry seeks…satisfaction. A settling of scores. Personal justice."

"Which is why I have not called the watch upon you," Landry finished.

That answered that question.

He continued. "I care not for any reward. All I wish is…."

"What? Vengeance? For Ostagar?" I asked.

Landry bristled at the interruption. "To put it bluntly: yes."

"Ostagar was a tragedy, I know, but-"

One of Landry's escorts snapped, "Traitorous bastard!" He stepped at me and threw a punch at my gut.

I executed a textbook paint-the-house then stepped into and shoved the guy. He went over backwards and hit the floor. That got everybody tense in a hurry. Landry and company reached for their weapons; Neria had a ball of juice ready to go. It helped that I'd stopped moving, though. I slowly relaxed; everybody else did as well.

The innkeeper had been watching the entire exchange nervously but spoke up. "Out! All of you! Now!"

The dark-haired guy stepped over to check on his man and helped him up. "Idiot! We're not here to brawl!"

Landry looked to the innkeep. "I apologize, ser, but-"

Innkeep wasn't having it. "Out! Now! Or I call the watch! I might anyway!" Then he pointed at Neria and me. "You, too!" We opened our mouths to protest but didn't get a word out. "Now, or I call the watch!"

It took just a couple of minutes for the fellow to chase us out the door. Crap. The only weapon I had was my knife and my wit; Neria didn't even have her staff, and Cullen wouldn't count for much against armor.

I got shoulder to shoulder with Neria and faced down Landry with her. "So now what?"

Landry shrugged. "We're outside. We duel. Here. Now. Or we summon the watch and do this at Fort Drakon."

Neria and I exchanged a panicked set of glances. "Uh…."

"Give him your sword."

I thumped my chest. "Hey! No armor here!"

Landry hissed with frustration. "Knives, then." He looked to his crew. "Help me out of this." He started working on the straps to his armor.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are the rules?"

"Do you not know the-"

"Obviously!"

Landry glared at Neria. "Just two people in the square. The challenged has the choice of weapons. No magic. The challenger-"

"No magic? Is that so you can win-"

"Ser," the DHG said, "if magic were allowed mages would have an insurmountable advantage."

"But without it you get to beat up a defenseless girl. Sorry, Neria."

"It's quite all right." Neria's voice was shaky.

"'Magic exists to serve man-'"

"I know!" Damn. I emptied my pockets and gave the stuff to Neria. "My choice of weapons, right?"

"Right, ser."

"Mark out the ring. The only thing we're using is our bodies."

Landry stopped disrobing and stared at me. "You intend for us to beat each other to death with our bare hands?"

I nodded. "Real civilized, ain't it?"

Suspicion rippled through the stare. "What trickery is this?"

"No trickery. Whenever you're ready."

"Jeffrey!" Neria hissed. "Are you sure about this?"

"Unless you can figure out a way to wake up Zevran and/or Leliana and get them ready to fight in the time it takes him to get that armor off…."

About five long minutes later Landry had stripped down to just his trousers. Despite his apparent age the guy was pretty well built. No six pack, no monster pecs, just a lean, toned, hard body with plenty of muscle. And a pissed-off expression from being forced to fight barehanded. I wasn't sure I could take him if the fight was fair, but I do have some combatant and a bit of martial arts training. Plus when the guy squared off he stood like a bare-knuckles boxer: arms up awkwardly and standing flat-footed.

I looked back at Neria. "Yeah, this is gonna hurt. Remember," I said to the little crowd, "no holds barred." I was hoping I could get away with a couple of cheap shots and end things soon, but-

"Fight!"

Landry came at me carefully, flicking his fists, and trying to force a reaction. I held a relaxed steady stance, hands down and open, and just waited. Landry circled me outside striking distance, a growing look of frustration on his face. Finally he dropped his hands and shouted, "Come now, de-"

I took advantage of the opening to skip forward and jab at Landry's chest and face. He staggered backwards, out of the ring,

"Hold!" DHG shouted.

"Foully struck!" someone snarled.

"Bullshit!" I snapped. "He let his guard down."

"Ser?" DHG asked.

"I'm ready," Landry said, and moved back into the ring. His nose was already swelling up but he was willing to come back for more. He nodded to me. "It was a fair blow, but I won't be fooled this time."

"Fight!"

Landry moved in again, jabbing, then let loose with a haymaker. I stepped into it and let his arm hit me, tangled our feet, and forced him over backwards. He hit the ground with me on top; we scrambled for a moment and somehow I almost ended up in a chokehold. No problem; I got my feet under me and managed to lift Landry off the ground. He flailed for a second then ended up falling with me on top of him again. We traded some grapples and blows; I kicked away and got clear.

We both stood, panting, with Landry bloodied and me scraped. By this time I'd figured my reflexes were a lot better than his, so I let him circle me and move in when he was ready. I dodged and pushed him a couple of times to get him used to it. Then I faked a dodge, dropped my shoulder, and caught him square in the chest. The impact sent Landry to the ground, hard; I grabbed a convenient arm and twisted it until I felt tendons straining. Between that and my foot on his back he wasn't going anywhere.

"Yield," I growled.

"Ngguh."

I increased the pressure on his arm. "Yield."

"I yield."

Praise the deity of your choice. I let him go and stepped back. "Sword," I said flatly. Landry's crew looked a little shocked.

Landry was trying to get to his knees. "Give him a blade."

DHG gave me his sword; I put the point to Landry's throat. "Neria?" I was hoping she'd say what I was thinking she'd say.

"Don't kill him." Neria's voice was quiet.

I didn't move, but let out a very tiny breath of relief. Damnit, Leliana _was_ right; I'm not ruthless enough. If the situation was reversed Landry wouldn't hesitate to kill me. But again, I'm dealing with a half century of cultural conditioning. I've got to figure this out, and quick, before I get myself or worse, one of the group, killed.

Neria continued. "Just know, please, that we tried to light the beacon quickly, but the tower was overrun before we got there. Loghain left-"

Landry stared at her with defiant calm, but I didn't take my eyes off him. "You dare slander the man who saved so many lives?"

"Yes," Neria said then immediately added, "No! I'm…I'm not trying to slander him. It's just…I don't know. It's complicated. We didn't mean for any of it to happen."

I still had the sword at Landry's throat. He looked at me as I spoke. "Everybody did what they could at Ostagar, but sometimes things just go wrong. But the Grey Wardens are not traitors. And this one's-" I nodded at Neria. "-showing you mercy." I lowered the sword. "Remember that."

Landry started to look towards Neria but somebody yelled, "Lies!"

I heard quick footsteps but before I could react I was falling sideways and wondering why my head hurt so badly. I hit the ground and thought I heard Neria cry out.

_Oh, hell no. _I reached out and grabbed a plated boot and held on until its owner pulled loosed. I got kicked in the back and the side and it hurt like hell. The guy took a shot at my nuts but there's no way I'm ever letting that happen again; I rolled and took it in the gut instead. My leg got stomped, I think; I rolled over and met a gauntlet coming the other way. I saw stars that time. And then I couldn't breathe because I got kicked in the chest again. Actually, I got kicked three or four more times. At least I'd curled up and was protecting the jewels. And yes, this time the damage was grievous.

And then the beating stopped and the shouting started.

"I said hold!"

"Jeffrey!"

"Neria?" I think that was me.

"Mio amico! Do not move!"

"Cullen, no!"

[pained grunting that probably wasn't me]

"_Un momento!_" I didn't think Zevran could snarl.

"Jeffrey!"

"All right! All right!"

"Drink this, my friend."

Pop rocks and SoCo never tasted so good.

"Neria, quickly."

"How is he?"

"They hurt him badly."

"Is Neria okay?"

"She is well."

"Jeffrey, look at me."

I had one eye full of blood so it was pretty hard to see anything, but Neria's face swam in front of me, and then I felt her hands on my face, and then everything went warm and fuzzy and-

"Ow! Sonofabitch!" Someone had driven a hot nail into my chest.

"Si, definitely broken."

The nail disappeared and was replaced by that wonderful itchy warmth that meant I was getting magically healed. The fire on my chest eased up; apparently Zevran had been putting pressure on the rib to align it. The pain, all of it, now, started retreating, and, even though I was still bloody, suddenly sat up and looked around.

One of Landry's men was a block of ice. The other was bloodied and beaten and being circled by a growling Cullen. Landry and DHG both looked extremely pissed. Neria was so mad or upset she was shaking; Zevran was helping me sit up. I took a closer look at Neria. She had a nice cut and scrape along her cheek, her lip was swollen, and her tunic was torn at the shoulder.

"What the hell happened?"

Landry looked down at me with a clenched jaw. "I must humbly apologize, ser." He offered me a hand; I took it and he pulled me up. "My seconds were not as satisfied with the outcome as they should have been." I wobbled dizzily, but Landry kept hold of me. "Careful, ser; you took a powerful blow to the head. You're lucky it wasn't fatal. Warden: I think you should see to your man again."

"Mio amico, how do you feel?"

"Like I just got my ass kicked."

I felt that safe, itchy warmth again. Neria spoke as she healed me. "It was more than just your arse. How's that?""

The dizziness was gone but I still felt off. "I think I need to sit down again."

"Zevran, take him inside."

"Si, but…."

"Do not worry about your mistress. Our quarrel is over. For the moment." Landry still looked pissed. "You have comported yourselves honorably, which is much more than I can say." He clapped me on the shoulder. "You fought well, if strangely. I would like a rematch, but that'll be another day. Go and rest."

I nodded him some thanks and let Zevran take me inside. But as soon as we got inside the innkeeper lit into us. The gist of it was _Get your shit and get the hell out. Now._

Zevran got in his face and said something that made the man shut up and go pale. Then he came back and fussed over me until Neria returned. "I will go to wake our red-haired friend. When you've finished with our friend collect your things. We should probably move quickly."

"Where are we going?" Neria asked as she examined me.

"Doesn't matter and don't ask," I said and nodded towards the equally outraged and terrified innkeep.

"Hold still!"

Landry, according to Neria, was good to his word. He was extremely embarrassed but also gracious in defeat. He actually offered to board us for our remaining time in Denerim, but Neria wisely turned him down. When asked how he could redeem his honor in our eyes Neria just asked him to listen to her interpretation of the events at Ostagar. They'd spent a few minutes outside, speaking quietly, and, finally (according to Neria again), Landry said he'd need a day or so to recover from his injuries at my hand, and that he'd confine himself to his quarters until he felt well enough to venture out again.

Better than we could have hoped for, I guess. But we needed another place to stay.

Fortunately Zevran came through for us. "I took the precaution of arranging for an alternate means of repose should something of this nature occur. Trust me; it will be more than adequate." And then, half an hour later…

"The Pearl?" Leliana asked. "You got us rooms in The Pearl?"

"Why not, mio bella? The beds are soft, the wine is passable, and the staff is discreet. It is conveniently near the docks. And the nobility rarely come here; they prefer to do their whoring in more expensive establishments."

"Zevran." I groaned slightly; I was still feeling the effects of the beat down I'd received, but was also thinking the same thing Leliana was. "This is not what I'd call low profile."

"Wait," Neria said. "This is a whorehouse?"

"They prefer to call it a brothel, but, yes. And it is one of the finer ones in Denerim, I assure you."

"Really?"

"Si. Yes."

We all watched Neria think about it for a moment. Then she got that 'ooh!' look on her face. "Let's go!" Neria took off with Zevran at her side. The elf looked back at us with a wink and a grin.

Leliana and I exchanged looks. Even without my glasses I could tell she was a bit hungover, and clearly not in the mood for Zevran. "I wonder," she said waspishly, "how many rooms he reserved for us?"

"I'm hoping at least two, but if I have to share again…." I shook my head at her. "You willing to put up with me for another night?"

"At least you do not snore. Or become…_overly_ familiar." She gave me a little smile.

"Hey, you climbed in with me! Oh, that's right, because I'm 'trustworthy'."

"And it is a nice thing to know that my trust is not misplaced."

She won that round. Sigh. "Come on; let's catch up before Zevran starts a tab."

Into the Pearl. It is nicely appointed, so I guess the claims about its quality were deserved. Not that I'm planning on sampling the wares. Asking Neria or Wynne for a checkup would cause me to meltdown, and penicillin (see the back pages) might take too long to invent. We got into the main room; it's a combination bar, dining room, and meat market. Zevran was talking to an amply endowed woman at the bar; Neria was kinda covertly gawking, but scooted over to us when we came in.

"Look," she whispered, "they've got boy whores. Isn't that thoughtful?"

"I suppose, but…." I was kind of distracted by an Amazonian blonde back in a corner. I'm pretty sure it's a woman.

"And Zevran said one of them's a Qunari!"

That got my attention.

Leliana's too. "Really?" She sounded creepily curious.

"Yes! Makes me wonder-"

"Makes me wonder, too," I interrupted, "but I'm gonna go over by Sten – I mean Zevran!*** You two just keep talking."

I got there just in time to hear the madam say something about a tab.

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

I opened with pawn to e4. "So you're…."

The giant matched my move so I offered the queen's pawn. "I am not Qunari. They would call me vashoth." His voice, like Sten's, is rich and deep, but, unlike Sten's, relaxed, and there seems to be a bit of something I can't describe in it. At my questioning look he took the pawn and tried to continue, but I offered the bishop's pawn. "Hmm." He took the pawn and continued speaking. "I am outside the Qun, but still seek my role."

Bishop to c4. "So you found the Qun to be…too restrictive?"

He shrugged and took the knight's pawn; I immediately captured his pawn with the black bishop. "That is one way to put it. I chafed at the restrictions placed upon me." He moved his black bishop. "Check."

Knight to d2. "And you were what; disciplined?"

"I was given further instruction in the way of the Qun." He snorted and moved knight to f6, then snorted again when I played pawn to a3. "This is an interesting opening. You seem very familiar with it."

"I am. But, if you don't mind: I take it the instruction didn't work? And they…exiled you?"

"I do not mind the inquiry. But yes, that is in essence what occurred."

"Can you go back? Will they let you go back?"

He retreated his bishop to a5; I played knight f3. We both castled then he played knight to c6. I pushed the lone pawn to e5. "I can return if I am willing to abide by my role within the Qun." Knight to g4. Hmm. "And, before you ask, I do not wish to return. Not at this time."

"So you like it here." Pawn to h3.

"A vexing move." He considered the board then pushed his queen's pawn forward. I captured en passant. "And another one." He returned his knight to f6 and I picked up his c-pawn. "To say I like it here is not entirely accurate. But I do feel I am content." His queen took my pawn.

I swapped my black bishop for his knight then dropped a knight to e4. "There's a difference between content and happy." I watched as he reached for his queen but stopped. "Content tells me you're willing to move on if a good enough opportunity presents itself."

Queen to e7. Queen to a4. Grumble. "Should the opportunity present itself I would consider moving on. But I believe I have found a role here." Bishop to f5.

"Really?" Bishop to d5.

"Yes. When I arrived I met this establishment's owner by happenstance." Bishop took knight; my bishop took knight. We exchanged bishops and knights again, and then one more time. "Ah."

Crap. Down a pawn. And this guy doesn't have much flair, but he is solid. Should've taken the bishop with my queen instead. "I think I'll resign. Set'em up again though." I'd recorded the moves to play through later; I wanted to work on the alternate line.

The kossith rotated the board. "As I was saying, I met the owner by happenstance. She required a bouncer. I found the term both descriptive and amusing, so I took the job."

"Ah, mio amico. Sanga said you had taken on the services of the Qunari. And I was thinking you were unforthcoming regarding your preferences." I looked over to where Zevran was standing in the doorway to our suite, a glass of wine in his hand; I'm not sure if the expression on his face was disappointment or disgust.

"I was bored. Girth actually offered the game." I nodded at the giant.

Zevran was – for the first time since I met him - at a loss for words. "Girth?" he eventually managed to ask.

The kossith smiled gently and pushed a pawn. "I took that name when I was offered…a supplemental form of income. It is another term both descriptive and amusing."

I moved. "And apt, too, I would assume."

"You assume correctly, at least when you take…lesser…races into consideration." The gentle smile quirked up ever so slightly.

Zevran pulled up a chair and had a seat. "Jeff, you confondere me at times."

I didn't look up from the board. "Why's that?"

"I have seen you-" Zevran suddenly stopped speaking. He gave me a measuring look then broke into that gentle smile of his. "Ah, I see. I have something new to think about. And, if you don't mind, I will sit quietly and observe this game – and the players - while I do so."

* * *

><p><em>AN: thanks to everyone for the great response to the last chapter! Here's hoping I can keep things just as interesting._

_I know this is a much shorter chapter than the last but I felt this is a good stopping point._

_The conversation with Girth was unconsciously inspired by L.E. Modesitt's Recluce series, particularly the broader plot in _**The Magic of Recluce**_. It wasn't until after I'd written it and let it percolate for a while that I realized the parallels that I'd drawn between Qunari society and those of Recluce. _

_*** This line is unedited. Yes, I typed a Freudian slip._

_Armor build update: We've decided to go with the foam's dark grey with a coat of semi-gloss polyurethane, and a blue stripe down the right arm. I'm cool with that; it means I only have to do a little painting._

**Garret Hawke, DoorbellSpider, The Lieutenant Sarcasm, EmbertoInferno, & ihas no clu**e:_ Thanks to you all; glad you enjoyed it!_

**Garret:**_ I haven't played WoT in a while; I've been dealing with other time sinks. But keep an eye out for me there._

**great northern one:**_ The Answer the Ultimate Question About Life, the Universe, and Everything. Of course, knowing the answer doesn't do you much good if you don't know the question, right?_

**Not just another Storm: **_I don't know that Jeff found Neria scary so much as just really silly. But she'd be a lot of fun in Vegas, wouldn't she? As to what she told Leliana; well, we'll see if any of that hits the story line._

**Pegueng:**_ As Zevran said, "There is a story there…." It might make the main narrative as well, but I'm considering a one-shot. And you're right: I could totally see Oghren making a comment about puce-colored N7 armor. "Sodding pansies; how do you expect to take out the reapers in that fancy-pants girly-girl armor? Might as well twirl a pike at'em! You need a manly color, like peach, or taupe!" Hmm. Oghren with Shepard? Oghren as Shepard? I'm throwing that one out there for someone to run with. _

**Yathandra: **_You're very welcome for the shout out, and I'm glad you like everything so far. The movie theater scene wasn't that hard to draft out, but the details were fleshed out with the help of my son, and I know his input improved it a great deal from the original vision. As for Jeff getting home…we'll see._

**Shinkansen:**_ Jeff is naturally a pretty laid-back guy, especially for an Army sergeant, but he is a professional and knows how to get things done right the first time. However, if you add in being sidelined by a knee injury and a few years of retirement you've got someone more like Major Dad than R. Lee Ermey. That doesn't mean he won't get nasty if the situation calls for it, but he'd rather tell a soldier how disappointed he is than spend twenty minutes chewing the troop out. There is, however, a downside to this, and Leliana called him out on it early in Chapter 42. As always, there are repercussions and tradeoffs ahead…._


	44. Just Like Wisconsin

**Late afternoon**

"Jeffrey, I need your help. But we will need to go into the streets."

I looked up from where I'd been editing the diary; that is, trying to remember simple tech to write down. (I've come up with the idea for a horse- or ox-drawn railroad. And sketched out a flush toilet. See, I told you Step 3 was profit!) I've been cooped up in the Pearl all day. No TV, no internet, no pizza delivery, and no interesting books besides romance – sorry, erotic fiction. (And some erotic non-fiction. Neria's happily curled up with a small stack of both of those and a very carefully rationed bottle of wine. And she's been stopping by to heal me up on a regular basis. And she goggled at Girth.) And I've already laid out my objections to sampling the Pearl's goods. Zevran's out doing his thing; he hasn't said anything about making his contacts yet, but I'm assuming he has. Leliana's been a bit more forthcoming; she's sent Neria's and Alistair's messages out. Unfortunately we won't hear anything back for weeks. Provided the messages even catch up to us. (And now I have another idea for an item to invent.)

That was rambling, wasn't it?

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

"Jeffrey, I need your help. But we will need to go into the streets."

I looked up at Leliana. Anything to get out of the building. But, "Are you sure?"

"Quite. I have a buyer for the books of Grey Warden history; but he refuses to speak with a mere lay sister. If you were to come along as the seller I believe we can get a fair price." She shrugged. "We will be quick and discreet."

"Call me cynical, but I think we've already failed at that." Sigh. "Let's do this. Should we get Neria?"

Leliana shook her head. "I do not think we will need her. This errand should be simple. There should be no trouble."

In every movie, every book, every comic, every TV show somebody says those same words. And what usually happens? I know better than that. "I'm getting Neria."

* * *

><p>The three of us skirted around the market and took some side streets on the way to the buyer. We passed by Wonders of Thedas; I would have loved to poke around the place but time was too short. Besides, the ladies had been there yesterday while I was getting the armor fitted. Apparently Wynne had asked Neria to pick up some thread from the place; that lead to a whole other discussion…<p>

"So if the threads are imbued with lyrium it doesn't really matter what the clothing is, right?"

"Right."

"So you could embroider the clothes you're wearing now and get the same benefit as robes?"

"But robes are a…tradition, I guess. I've worn them since the day I arrived at the Tower."

"But you don't have to wear them, do you?"

"I guess not. But if I didn't how would people know I'm a mage?"

"And that's my point. You don't always want folks to know you're a mage, right? Like right now."

"And I feel naked, I'll have you know. No robes, no staff. I'm not going to be able to hit very hard."

"Well, I'm hoping you won't have to. And, just so you know, you look cute naked."

Neria turned bright red.

"Yes!"

Leliana had stopped walking. "Are you finished teasing her?"

"That depends. How much further do we need to go?"

Neria gave me a dirty look.

"Right there," Leliana said. "Brother Genitivi's house."

"Wait, you said Genitivi?"

Leliana nodded.

This wasn't gonna be good. "According to my information he's out on another fact-finding mission."

"That is right. His assistant is minding his home, but the man was very short with me. He insisted he could not speak with me. Even after I told him of the value of the histories he simply dismissed me."

"And that's the other thing: his assistant is supposed to be a pretty nice guy, and is supposed to be just as curious as Genitivi. He wouldn't turn down a chance at these books." Sigh. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Neria, can you ice our weapons?"

"I suppose-"

"Jeffrey, are you sure about this?" But Leliana eased her knives out through a concealed slit in her robes and let Neria do her thing.

"Not positive, but…." I shrugged and let Neria ice my blade. "Let's do this, but be careful. It just doesn't feel right."

I let Leliana lead us up to Genitivi's door. She knocked; it took a bit, but eventually we heard a bar lift and the door opened. A heavy-set man with dark brown hair appeared when the door cracked open. He took in the three of us, but narrowed his eyes at Leliana. "You again." The voice was flat and slightly accusing. Kinda like Sten's.

"Yes, me again." Leliana's voice was light. "I have brought the seller with me. Jeffrey, this is Weylon, brother Genitivi's assistant."

Not if I remembered correctly he wasn't. But, "Good to meet you."

Weylon stared back at me without expression. "Brother Genitivi is not here." His accent was a bit flat too.

"We don't need to speak to Genitivi. You should be able act for him, though. We have a couple histories he'd be interested in."

Weylon's eyes flicked back and forth between the three of us. "You should really speak to the brother when he returns."

"And when would that be?"

"I don't expect him for at least a couple of months. His research has taken him to Lake Calenhad."

Sigh. "We don't have that much time."

"All we wish to do," Leliana added, "is sell you the histories of the Grey Wardens."

"And once we've done that we'll be on our way." I didn't think it would be that simple, but I could hope.

Weylon's eyes flickered over us again. "Very well. Come in." He stood aside as we entered, and once all three of us were in closed the door and dropped the bar on it. At our looks he shrugged. "Force of habit."

My hackles went up. Neria was suddenly looking a little nervous, but Leliana appeared unruffled.

Weylon continued speaking. "These histories of yours-"

"Right here." I put the books down on a cluttered table.

Weylon took a quick look at each one. "How much?"

We'd discussed a price and I tossed it out. Plus a bit. "Fifteen sovereigns."

Weylon nodded. "I think I can manage that. A moment, please." He headed towards a door on the far side of the room and disappeared.

"He didn't even haggle," Neria said. She was definitely nervous.

"I have a bad feeling about this, too," Leliana added quietly. "But if he will buy the books, let us take his coins and leave."

"I think he wants to be rid of us."

"Oh, I know he does."

I'd drifted over and was looking at a small book next to an empty plate. I caught something about Andraste and her glory when I heard the door rattle. I stepped away from the book as it opened. Weylon stepped out of the back room with a heavy pouch in his hand. He pulled the door closed but something wafted out behind him.

I involuntarily recoiled and must have made a noise because Weylon looked at me. "What's that?"

"What's that smell?" It was of rotten meat, but I didn't connect the dots right at the moment.

Weylon's face stayed impassive. "An old bowl of stew I've forgotten to wash out."

"That is not the smell of rotten food," Leliana said. She was slowly moving to flank the guy.

Weylon leaped forward then struck a pose and let off something like a smite that staggered all three of us. And I guess Weylon figured I was the biggest threat. Showed what he knew. But he decided to throw something at me and everything slowed down-

"Thing?" I was seeing the Fade overlapped with the room I was in. Thing looked at me and hissed; it seemed like he was surprised at my presence, but then the Fade faded away, and everything in this reality snapped back into place. I think, because Weylon stood there just staring at me.

Nope, it wasn't reality. "Here's what you're going to do…." He intimately detailed exactly how I was going to help him kill the ladies. It was practical, efficient, and brutal. "Do you understand?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Good. Now begin."

There was a rushing sensation and _then _I was back in reality. Weylon stood there just staring at me. Impatiently. "Get on with it," he finally said.

I drew my sword and pointed it at Weylon. There was no hesitation here; he was going to kill me and the ladies if we didn't take him down first. I'll save the dithering for situations with more moral ambiguity. I thrust at Weylon as I yelled, "Fuck you!"

The stab didn't land; he rushed me that fast, but I did manage to clip him in the ribs. He pulled a knife and slashed at me but I reacted as fast as he did and got out of the way. I shoved Weylon as he went by and he hit the wall behind me but not before he punched me in the side of the head. Leliana came up beside me as Neria threw a spell at the him. A coat of frost appeared over him but he shrugged that off and came at me. I tried another stab but as I did his charged stopped and he changed direction and went after Leliana. My stab changed to a clumsy swing and caught the guy in his free arm; I followed up by reaching in and grabbing his tunic. That threw him off balance and I heard a _clank_ as Leliana parried his knife strike. Weylon spun and stabbed at my free arm; I let go of the tunic and slashed at his knife hand. I connected solidly and felt the impact as my sword stopped his arm. Then he punched me in the chest with his free hand; it felt like a brick.

Leliana cried out and went down; Weylon had backhanded her and caught her hard enough to stumble her backwards, but before he could recover I stepped and drove the heel of my free hand into his chin. The guy's head snapped back; as it came forward again I backhanded his face with my sword hand. But his knife hand came at me again. I caught it with my free hand (his hand, not the knife) but damn the guy was strong, and my sword was under our locked hands.

I dropped my blade. Good thing I did because I was suddenly wrestling with Weylon. And then I wasn't; instead I was thrown into the wall. Not too hard, though, because I immediately dropped into ready. Good thing there, too, because Weylon stabbed at me again. I guess I'd broken his hand or something because he was barely holding the knife. I caught his arm and the knife flew out of his hand and went somewhere. He grabbed me again; a quick grapple, some kicks and elbows, and then he threw me into and over the table.

I yanked a fork out of my leg and, with Neria's help, popped back up. Leliana was waving her knives at the guy while backing up and Neria was trying to decide whether to hit him or heal me. "Get him!" I yelled. The guy was bleeding from multiple wounds but was still up and fighting.

Neria cast at Weylon again; a burst of light like a magic missile knocked him backwards. He recovered just as I hit him like a linebacker. The impact lifted him off his feet and I carried him into the wall. I think the whole building shook. I used the momentum to stab him with the fork. (Hey, medieval style forks are no joke.) He hit me a couple more times; hard, heavy blows that felt like a sledgehammer.

Leliana yelled something as Weylon bashed me to the floor with blow that broke his own arm. He tried to kick me but didn't have any leverage; I grabbed his legs hoping to pull or at least slow him down. It was the right choice; while he was focused on me Neria hit him with another magic missile and Leliana immediately followed through by stabbing him in the chest. The strength went out of his legs, but he decided to take it out on me and punched me in the back as he collapsed.

"Who's hurt?" Neria asked. She sounded out of breath, but otherwise looked fine.

"I am," Leliana said. She helped me shove the dead guy off. She looked pretty rough: blood spattered, torn robes, a nice limp, and a hell of a bruise coming in on the side of her face.

The adrenaline evaporated and left pain behind. I just moaned as I thought about standing up. Two beat downs in one day is not fair. And the asshole bled out all over me. As bad as Leliana looked I probably looked a dozen times worse.

"What's that thumping?" Neria asked.

"Thumping?"

"Maker!" Neria swore. "The door!"

There was more thumping at the door. "The Chantry demands entry!"

"Shit! Templars?"

Neria looked a little wild-eyed. "With all the casting, and him, too-" I understood why she was worried. If Templars discovered a mage had killed Genitivi's ersatz assistant they'd smite first and ask questions later.

The door thumped again, but more like a body had been hurled against it. "Open!" Then there was the no-pressure shockwave of a smite. Neria was, fortunately, out of range.

Leliana understood Neria's danger too. "Neria," Leliana hissed, "get out. Find a door or window and get back to the Pearl." She pointed towards the room that had the body in it.

The banging at the door repeated.

Neria started to move but stopped at my own hiss. "No! Go that way!" I pointed to the other door. "Go!"

"But-"

"Go!" Leliana and I said at the same time.

Neria took off and Leliana and I stared at each other. _Bang_. "How do we play this?" I asked her.

"Follow my lead." _Bang._ Leliana reached for some spilled salt and dropped a couple of grains in each eye. She winced and blinked hard; when she opened her eyes they watered and tears started down her face.

_Bang._ "Open the door!"

"Nice." I started patting the dead guy down but didn't find anything

"Oh, and if they ask, the knife is yours." _Bang._ "If you are ready you may unbar the door. And remember to look dazed."

"No problem." Seriously, it wasn't. "I'm opening the door!" I shouted.

"Now!"

I lifted the bar and was instantly thrown back as a Templar forced his way in. I let him push me into a wall as I put my hands up.

"Where's the mage?"

Leliana had tears streaming down her face, streaking the blood, making her look like someone who was in way over her head. And when she spoke it was with a choking, sobbing speech that hid her accent. Nice. "The…the…he…attacked us!" She pointed at Weylon with a shaking hand.

"Who are you two?"

"I…I…I…am…Marie…lay sister. This…this is…Harold."

I didn't have much to say, but then one of the Templars had a sword pressed up against my neck. Even through the slits in his helmet I could see some scared eyes. I decided the best course of action was to stand still and keep my hands up.

"Not a mage!" the Templar holding me shouted.

"I'm not!" I agreed.

"Quiet!"

I nodded.

The second Templar had a sword pointed at Leliana (who, I have to say, was hamming it up). "What happened here, sister?"

Leliana pointed a shaking hand at Weylon. When she spoke she made sure her voice cracked. "He…he…a blood mage. He attacked us. He-"

"Isn't that Genitivi's assistant?"

"No," I said quietly. When both Templars turned to look at me I continued. "There's a body in the back room. I think that's his assistant – Genitivi's assistant. This…man attacked us when we confronted him."

"Oh, it is true!" Leliana sobbed.

Templar 2 looked around. "Both of you: sit!" After we'd taken chairs he addressed his partner. "Go check that room." Back to Leliana. "Sister, why are you and this man here?"

Leliana kept up the performance. "My friend had old books he thought Brother Genitivi would like to buy. I brought him here and…. Oh, dear Andraste!" She buried her face in her hands and shook.

T2 looked at me. "And you…."

"Harold." I passed the test.

"Harold. These books of yours…."

I looked around. One was still on the table but the second had been knocked to the floor and hadn't cared for the abuse. "There and there."

The other Templar returned. "There is a body there. And it's been there for a while." His voice was strained.

T2 pointed to one of the books we'd brought. "Check that book there."

T1 took a look but ended up having to take off his helmet to be able to read. He was young, but a bit older than Alistair. "'A Chronicle of the Grey Wardens of the Steel Age.' Looks old." He opened it to a random page and read a few lines. "It is old."

T2 visibly relaxed and looked around the room. The place was a wreck, and, of course, had blood everywhere, but mostly around Weylon's body. And all over me. "How did you manage to take down a blood mage?" Leliana looked up and I must have looked surprised. "Yes, a blood mage."

Leliana went back to faux-crying as I shook my head. "We…were…lucky. We just…kept…hitting him. And finally the sister here stabbed him."

T1 looked at the mess. "Very lucky, I'd say. Shall I fetch help?"

"Yes, go. I'll stay here. Bring whoever you can, but make sure you get someone who knows Genitivi. And the healer."

"Yes, ser!" T1 slapped his helmet back on and headed out the door.

T2 took his helmet off then bent down and retrieved my sword. "Templar blade?"

I didn't have to pretend to be embarrassed. "Bought it used a while back. Best one they had."

"You used it well, but I'll have to confiscate it. Chantry law," he added at look I gave him. The Templar looked at Weylon again. "How did you manage-"

Leliana moved faster than I'd expected anyone wearing those robes to move and clocked the Templar on the back of the head. He collapsed onto Weylon's body. I stood up as quickly as I could (not very) while Leliana checked the Templar. "He's alive. How are you?"

"I'm alive. Debatably."

"Come on." She skipped around the table, handed me my sword, and headed for the room Neria'd escaped through. I followed as quickly as I could. Leliana grabbed a pitcher and soaked a towel with the water and tossed it to me. "Take off your shirt and clean your face." She started pulling off her robes.

It took us a couple of precious minutes to change and clean off the worst of the blood. We found a couple of spare shirts, but Leliana wrapped a blanket around herself as well. I'd grabbed the Warden books and whatever Weylon had been reading. We climbed out the same window Neria had used and headed down a convenient alley. And then-

"Aw, crap!"

"What?"

"We should have grabbed the money."

Leliana held up Weylon's pouch with a sly smile.

"Clever lass."

* * *

><p>Neria scared the crap out of us just a few seconds later; she didn't remember the way back to the Pearl. Plus she'd wanted to come after us if we needed the help. But having Neria turned out to be handy: she healed us both, and then, when Leliana dumped our bloody clothes in a burn pit, she set them on fire. We found a communal well and rinsed my pants off as best we could. That made us look merely disreputable rather than psychotically dangerous, but at least I wasn't walking through the streets looking like a butcher.<p>

We made it back to The Pearl without difficulty, albeit slowly; even with a couple more heals Leliana and I weren't moving too fast. So into The Pearl, and immediately into a bath. I handed my ruined pants off to Neria; she destroyed them, healed me again, and woke me up before I drowned. I dropped gratefully into bed; Neria brought me my journal and some food, and demanded I stay in bed while eating and writing. Leliana's in the next room over; she's already out. Neria's going back and forth to check on us. I've been drifting in and out. I'll have to clean this afternoon's entry up tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Even later<strong>

There's a naked red-haired woman in the bed with me. No, it's not Leliana. I'm too wrung out to care. At least it's not Zevran.

* * *

><p><strong>3 August (day 47), morning<strong>

Arlee (the redhead) is a lot more understanding about my lack of interest this morning than she was last night. Especially since she saw the bruising. She was pretty impressed.

Zevran, OTOH…. "Mio amico, only you could insult a whore!"

Despite Neria's help I'm still feeling yesterday. Breakfast isn't sitting well, either. At least Leliana had the foresight to eat in our suite. I was sitting across a table from an indignant elf. "You know, Arlee was a lot more understanding than you are. And in case you hadn't noticed I got the shit kicked out of me _twice_ yesterday!"

"But a man of your stature-"

"Dude! I was dead to the wo- I'm lucky I not dead!"

"And so are we; the world would be a sadder-"

I was not in the mood for this. "Zevran. Please. Just…shut up."

"And you would deny yourself the simple pleasure-"

"Don't wanna hear it."

"-of a willing and able companion-"

"Zevran…."

"who would gladly spend her time with you and yet-"

I leaned forward over my breakfast. "I highly suggest you shut the fuck up before I come over there and shut you the fuck up."

Zevran did shut up but gave me his scary stare. "Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a warning!" I was on my feet and leaning over the breakfast table without realizing it. But it wasn't even a warning; standing up so fast had my legs shaking and my vision went dark for an instant.

Neria stepped up again. (Good on her!) "Jeffrey!" She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me away from the table. "Zevran meant well – in his own way – so, please, don't be mad at him." She gave me a look that was half-pleading and half-we _don't need a repeat of you and Alistair._ I nodded at her; she turned around and, "Zevran! Can't you think with something besides your cock for a change? Poor Jeffrey – and Leliana – both of them! I stayed up half the night making sure they were well and you're mad because Jeff didn't have enough strength to fuck a whore you slipped into his bed?"

I looked at the girl not quite believing what I'd just heard her say.

Zevran didn't even look surprised. "I did not think it was the whore he wished to fotere, but-"

"Zevran!" Neria spun around to me; I'd started moving again, not at anyone in particular, just wobbling along. "Jeffrey! No! Go. Lay. Down." Beat. "Now."

I tried to give Zevran my best death glare but I'm not sure I pulled it off. But I turned around and staggered back to bed. Even with magical healing I'm barely functional right now.

"Zevran," I heard Neria say, "if Jeffrey needs a whore he can get one for himself."

"I do not know that you are right, mio capo bella. Jeff seems the type to-"

"Zevran!"

* * *

><p><strong>Late morning and noon<strong>

I woke up when a warm hand brushed over my forehead.

"I was just checking on you."

"I'm okay, hon." Okay, so I lied.

"Hon?"

My brain reset. "Neria?"

"Who did you think- Oh, I'm sorry."

I stretched and heard - rather than felt - joints popping all over my body. I groaned, but from exhaustion, not pain. And hunger; my stomach was of the opinion that breakfast just hadn't cut it. "I think I need to eat."

The room brightened a bit as Neria opened a curtain. "You should. The healing I did can only do so much; you need to eat and give yourself some strength." Was she channeling Wynne?

My stomach back flipped at the idea of food. In a good way. I was feeling kind of nauseous and light-headed, but the thought of eating was pleasant. "Yeah, I could eat."

"Then come over here." She took me by the arm and helped me over to a table where there was a small tray waiting. Nothing fancy; just some bread and jam and….

My stomach drop-kicked my spleen. "Are those pigeon pies?"

Neria nodded and smiled. "I sent Zevran out to get us some."

[hungry growl] "I don't know about you, but Jeff needs food, badly."

We sat down, dug in, and ate silently for a while. After about three bites my stomach settled down and paid attention to the food I was throwing at it; that just made me hungrier. And Neria; well, she ate bite for bite with me.

We both finished a whole pie before I finally spoke up again. "Last night, with Weylon; that mage at Genitivi's place. Did you see what happened with me?"

Neria stopped chewing and looked at me resignedly. "Is this for your journal?"

"Yes. And no. I am gonna write about it, but I'm trying to figure out what happened."

She swallowed and sighed. "Well, I remember him stunning us for a few seconds. When I came out of it we were all just standing there. And you and Weylon were staring at each other. And then he said something like, 'Get on with it.' And then you tried to stab him and the-"

"Back up. When we were staring at each other; did you see anything weird? Strange?"

Neria thought for a few seconds then shook her head slowly. "Everything was blurry for a bit. And when I came out of it I thought you'd been hurt; I thought I saw-" Her eyes suddenly went wide. "Maker, you said he was a blood mage! He tried to dominate you!"

I felt a chill. "He tried. It was like we were in our own little world, and he told me to kill you and Leliana."

Neria was still staring at me. "How did you resist him?"

I just shook my head. "I don't know. For an instant I thought I was having a Fade dream like I do, then it was like we were talking. Like we're – like you and me – are talking right now."

"And you didn't feel an urge to obey him?"

I kept shaking my head. "No. Nothing. I was just kinda…confused about why he was talking to me and not just trying to kill me."

Neria leaned forward and regarded me very carefully. "You just…ignored a blood mage? Are you sure you're not a mage?"

I gave her an exasperated look. "If I was a mage do you think I'd be getting pummeled on the front line with Alistair?"

"Good point. But…you don't have any mage talents? At all?"

"Just those into the Fade dreams I have. And being able to…summon things, I guess, while I'm there." I looked around to confirm a suspicion. "And being able to see tears in the Veil." There was a flickering off somewhere in Denerim, but I hadn't had a chance to zero in on it yet.

"And Morrigan said you found your own way out of your dream when we were trapped in the Fade by the demon."

And Flemeth called me 'Fadewalker.' Although I've done a lot more sitting and talking with Thing than walking around. "I'm not sure that wasn't luck. But then I got trapped with Alistair."

"But that's only because you didn't know how to escape his dream."

"Cullen's dream."

"Oh, right. But…." She stared into space as she trailed off.

"But…?" I unhelpfully added.

"I don't know."

"Me either."

"Maybe we should talk to Wynne."

"I'll put that on my to-do list."

Neria just nodded, so we ate in silence for a few minutes. But…

"Ooh! Can I try something?" At my expression Neria wrinkled her nose at me. "It won't hurt. I want to try a sleep hex on you. But do your best to fight it."

Worst that would happen is I'd get some more rest. "Let me use the piss-pot first."

Two minutes later I was propped up on the bed.

"Now remember," Neria said, "fight it."

_Stayawakestayawakestayawake-_

She raised a relaxed hand and a ball of soothing energy appeared in it. She followed that up by making a Jedi mind trick pass-

"Jeffrey, wake up; your armor's here."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I personally felt that Chapter 42 was going to be a tough act to follow, but I appreciate the kind words everyone's had for Chapter 43._

_Thanksgiving update: I bought eight pie pumpkins (the small ones the size of cantalopes). I've sliced them into quarters, scooped'em out (and roasted the seeds with butter and salt and pepper), brushed on some olive oil, and roasted the slices for an hour at 350. After the meat cooled I scraped it off the rind; it got pureed and frozen. It'll keep for months. Just scoop out 15 ounces (or 1 ¾ cups) to use in place of a can of pumpkin. It's a bit of work, bit it is so much better than canned pumpkin, even after being in the freezer for a couple of months. And now I've got enough fresh pumpkin for ten pies!_

_Milestones: 150,000 words! 140 reviews; thanks to _**alyssacousland**_ and _**Mayhem296**_ for helping reach that number!_

**Shinkansen:** _Landry is canon, but the only options you have with him are to make him run off angry, talk him down, or kill him in a duel. I took a fourth option and combined the duel with talking him down. But then, Jeff is mucking about with canon. Girth is an OC, although, like I'd mentioned, he was subconsciously inspired by the _**Recluce**_ series._

'_Lay sister.' As Oghren would say: "Heh." (Were you going for a pun there? I might have to use it.) Anyway, Leliana did spend a couple years as a junior nun, and although her bardic background makes me pretty sure she's not a prude, she also doesn't seem to be the type that's into casual sex._

**The Lieutenant Sarcasm:** _Like I told_ **Shinkansen** _I never cared for the game options we had for Ser Landry, but I think my outcome's plausible. We've got another chapter or so before we hook back up with the others, but I hope you've enjoyed the side trip._

**Garret Hawke:** _Thanks! I'll make sure to give plenty of notice before the rating goes up._

**Hidden in Twilight: **_Thanks for the kind words! You're right about the writing style being a tough thing to maintain suspense with, but there are some tricks that can be used within a first-person narrative._

**alyssacousland:** _Chapter 42 was pretty fun to write; it flowed very easily. Chapter 43 was pretty easy as well, but to me felt more like a filler chapter. Anyway…. Qunari society is very orderly and very tightly controlled, but simply killing dissidents would seem to be inefficient, especially if those dissidents could possibly return to the fold. But not everybody, even those born to it, can fit in. Hence the conversation with Girth, and my ensuing RL realization of how closely Qunari society seems to resemble that of Recluce._

_Zevran's not too difficult to write. The guy's a horn dog, but also knows when, where, and how to get down to business. But when there's no business to be had, well…._

**Mayhem296:** _Thanks, and welcome aboard!_


	45. Sharp Dressed Man

**Noon**

I was stripped down to my undershorts, but paused to look in the mirror. Not bad. I'd been a kinda pudgy 190-5 pounds on arrival. A month and a half of steady exercise and mostly short rations has stripped that down by at least twenty pounds. I'm not ripped like Alistair (or Sten [or Zevran]), but the love handles are long gone, the arms and shoulders are bulked up again, and the legs and butt are looking good. (IMHO, of course.) The only downside is that my face looks drawn, at least compared to what I'm used to seeing.

"Gear me up."

Zevran is, at heart, a decent guy, or at least loyal enough to Neria to pretend to be one. After fetching brunch Neria had made him run over to Wade's to check on the armor. Turns out it was finished. Under the not unreasonable assumption that it would be a bad idea for me (or Leliana) (and probably Neria) to go into the streets Zevran arranged for delivery. Wade and Herren showed up fairly quickly; I'm sure the extra sovereign we promised didn't hurt. It didn't take as long as I thought it would to get the armor on, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, even with Wade making some small adjustments as we went. It's also not as heavy as you'd think, and it's very well balanced across the shoulders. I can actually move around in it pretty well without the leggings; I just have to be careful not to over balance. But then we strapped on the leggings and I understand why Alistair moves so cautiously in full kit. Still, though, the weight's pretty well distributed, and the extra weight on my legs helps with my overall balance. I also don't have the range of motion I'm used to from the chain, but I guess that's the tradeoff.

Wade finally stopped fussing over me, mumbled something about 'art', and let me take another look in the mirror. _Wow._ I have to say I look pretty badass. And Alistair's right: the bluing does match my eyes. Neria slipped me my glasses after the smiths left; the first thing that came to mind was 'medieval Gordon Freeman.' Get me a crowbar and I'll be ready to rock. But first…

"Can y'all help me get out of this? I need to lay down again."

"Certainly, mio amico. I must say you look quite imposing; this trip was certainly worth the effort."

Leliana had been examining me from a distance, but stepped over to help to me gear down. "Zevran is right. You are very striking; you look like a hero of old." She leaned in and whispered so quietly I think she couldn't hear herself speak."And you look neither lost nor reluctant."

Zevran's hands were fiddling with exactly what I wanted him to fiddle with. "I must offer apologies for my words earlier. I merely wished for you to take some time to enjoy yourself. By enjoying another."

Leliana rolled her eyes.

Neria looked up from where she was fumbling with a strap. "I didn't put him up to it; he's being sincere. I think." She went back to the strap. "I don't know how you can stand this…."

I looked at Zevran with a sigh. "No problem. And I shouldn't have-"

"Do not worry yourself. I…misjudged you; the fault is mine."

I gave him a half-smile. "It's all good. But if I ever do want some help-"

Zevran broke out into a perverted grin. "Trust me, my friend: I'll ensure you will be again unable to stand. Only that time you'll enjoy the method employed."

* * *

><p><strong>Mid-afternoon<strong>

Zevran's the only one really able to move about the town freely any more, so it's up to him to deal with the final objective. The solution was both expected and unexpected.

"Mia amici, let me introduce you to the Queen of the Eastern Seas and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn-"

Of course. Sure. Why not? We're running into all sorts of folks we're 'supposed' to be running into, so why not Isabela? And, of course, I'd forgotten that Zevran knows her from back when. Oh, and did I say I like boots? Yeah, cause she's wearing those boots that come most of the way up her thighs. And that white, one-piece tunic. And I'm pretty sure she's going commando.

What? I'm a man.

Leliana took an instant dislike to her ("She is far too much like Zevran."), Neria squirmed every time Isabela called her 'sweet thing' ("I felt like she was going to pounce on me!"), but I just voiced some concerns about how much Zevran had told her about us ("She is a paragon of discretion, mio amico.")

Isabela responded to that by fixing me with honey-brown eyes (hot!) and simply saying, "Well, I _can_ be discreet if the mood suits." Then she gave me a little smile and let her tongue brush her lips. "Quiet, too. If the mood suits."

Great. Four days on a ship with FemZev.

It took a little convincing but Isabela finally agreed to take both books as payment for passage. She reluctantly took the beat up history as a deposit ("Is this blood?"); we'll give her the other book when we go aboard tomorrow morning. So another night in The Pearl; as long as Zevran doesn't run up our bill too much more we'll be in very good shape.

**Late evening**

"Jeffrey!" Neria had her too excited voice going in overdrive.

I looked up from the book I was reading. It wasn't a bad adventure if I skipped over all the sex. It just gets boring after a while. (You know, the next time this happens I'm bringing a laptop and a solar charger.) "I don't what you've got planned, but I'm not sure I want to be a part of it."

Her eyes were bright but concerned. "Are you feeling well?" She'd been checking on me and Leliana regularly, offering healing and enervating magic, but what really did the trick was rest and food.

"Fairly well. Finally."

"Good! Come with me!"

Eye rub. "Where?"

"Another room right here in The Pearl. One of the boy whores told me there's a gathering for Grey Warden supporters. The leaders just got here, and they're expecting people from all over Denerim. We need to go see them!"

Every alarm bell in my head went off. I'd totally forgotten about this. I came out of my chair and grabbed Neria a little too hard. "Where's Zevran and Leliana?"

"Ow! Je-" She went quiet when she saw my face. Cullen jumped up and gave me a warning look. "Leliana's in the main room; so's Zevran.

I let her go. "Sorry. I'll go get the others."

"Jeffrey. What's going on?"

"I'm pretty sure this is a trap."

Neria scoffed. "You've been on edge the whole time we've-"

"And I'm not dead yet. I'd like to go oh for three."

"But-"

"Just trust me on this. Please."

"I do, but maybe we should…."

That's what I was hoping she wouldn't say. "Damnit, Neria-"

"Jeffrey, we need to at least see what's going on with this…gathering."

Sigh. "At least get your robes and staff; you're gonna need'em. I'll explain when everybody's here." I left the suite and headed for the main room. Leliana came without a fuss; Zevran took a moment of persuasion, but we got back to the suite without incident. "Neria," I said, "tell them what you told me. Oh, and everybody gear up while she's telling us."

Neria was wiggling into her robes and I was taking off my own clothes. The other two just stared at us.

Neria's head popped out of her collar. "There's a meeting of Grey Warden supporters in another suite. Jeffrey almost panicked when I told him about it."

Leliana and Zevran looked at me.

"It's a trap." I rolled my eyes at Zevran. "A bit more subtle than yours but it's still a trap."

"And how do you know this, Jeffrey?" Leliana hadn't moved to change yet.

Yeah, how do I know? I started stripping down while thinking out loud. "Okay, there's an…announced meeting of Grey Warden supporters. But…Alistair's poster says he's a traitor to the crown. And…if you…believed in the Wardens wouldn't you be nervous about announcing it to the whole city? Especially if one of the Wardens has a pretty good price on his head?"

Neria _hmmphed_. "I still think I should be worth something."

I pulled on a padded shirt. "And why meet at The Pearl? Why not a more…private…location?"

Zevran had already switched into business mode. "You are certain of this?"

"As certain as I can be. Our best course of action would be to stay in here tonight and sneak out first thing in the morning, but Neria..." I shook my head.

"I'd like to make sure it's not genuine," she said, but she'd already finished getting her robes on. Still, she didn't look happy.

"Did either of you see them come in?"

"A human and an elf-" Leliana and Zevran spoke at the same time. Zevran deferred to Leliana. "They were wearing matched armor. And they had two Qunari with them."

"Two?"

Leliana nodded emphatically. "There were two. They spoke briefly with Sanga then went back to the private rooms."

Alarm bells went off again. "You don't think-"

Zevran was in the midst of changing as he answered. "No. I told our hostess nothing about our dear Warden."

Sigh of relief. "As soon as you're changed find out what room they're in and keep an eye on it. Warn off anybody else."

"And the rest of you will be where?"

"Neria, you still wanna check this out?"

"I do." I didn't really blame her, but at least she was willing to go in with her eyes open.

"Then as soon as I get geared up we'll find you."

"Very well."

* * *

><p>"This is not the field test I wanted for this armor."<p>

Neria scowled at me. "Jeffrey, are you _certain_ this is a trap?"

"Certain enough that I think you should throw a fireball in the room as soon as the door opens."

"Neria," Leliana said, "Jeffrey has good instincts. He has been right before."

Well, it helps knowing what's coming up.

Neria scowled at Leliana. "I'd rather not charge in and accidently kill a bunch of people who don't want to kill us or collect a bounty on us."

"And we will not. But Jeffrey is right: we should be very careful." She broke into a broad grin. "Let Jeffrey stand in front of you."

The tension melted out of the room. Neria dropped her head and looked embarrassed. I shook mine and realized I needed a real helmet. Leliana giggled as she checked her knives. Good thing this meeting was right across the hall; the bouncers would have something to say about an armed group in the hallway.

"Okay, ladies. Let's go kick some ass."

* * *

><p>"Sod off!"<p>

Neria looked at me accusatorially.

I frowned right back. "How am I supposed to know the password?"

Neria shook her head and leaned into the door again. "Listen-"

The man on the other side yelled again. "I said sod off!"

"I'm a Grey Warden!"

I winced at that; no telling who else heard it. Leliana and Zevran both muttered something.

"Did you hear me?" Neria repeated after a moment.

"Yeah, I heard you." The voice dropped and spoke with someone else then we heard a bar lift. The door cracked open and a man's face appeared. He quickly checked all our faces, but his eyes widened he when saw the design on my shiny brand new chest plate. But he recovered quickly enough and slammed the door. We heard muffled voices again and finally the door opened wide enough for us to enter. "Hurry up!"

We moved in as a group with me on point and the others flanking Neria. There was a dark-haired elven woman in the room; even with her armor she couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds. But she looked scarier than the two kossith standing in opposite corners of the room. With their weapons out. Combined.

I could feel rather than hear Cullen's growling; he was right by my legs. Neria put a restraining hand on my arm then peeked out from around me and looked at the guy who'd let us in. "I'd heard there was a gathering to support the Grey Wardens."

The guy dropped the bar back over the door. "Well, in a way," he said as he moved back to the elf. The only thing that kept me from rushing him was Neria's hand. "We're actually looking for Grey Warden supporters, but now you claim to be a Warden."

The elf shook her head and smiled. That just made her scarier. "This _is_ a Warden. The mage Warden. I recognize her from her description." Then she waved her hand at me. "And this isn't the bastard, but that armor…."

The man broke into a huge grin. "Jarvy, Tenant, we've just bagged ourselves a couple of Wardens. The arl's going to pay well for this." The two kossith rumbled appreciatively, but maintained their attentiveness. "And you lot: you have one chance to surrender."

I heard Neria sigh. "No," she said quietly. "You have one chance to surrender. We've faced much worse than you."

The elf laughed as the man spoke again. "We're not common mercenaries; we're Howe's elite. We've taken down-"

"Time's up!" I shouted.

Neria acted on her cue and shot a cone of cold that made my joints ache from the proximity. She caught the man, the elf, and a kossith in the arc. If the idiot had only stayed on our flank the fight would have been a lot tougher. Although looking back I've decided they were all idiots. Who lets an armed group walk into a trap like that?

As it was we just had to deal with the second giant. "Jeff!" Zevran shouted.

I spun, slowly and carefully in the armor, with all the grace and speed of an ocean liner, and drew my sword and headed for the other kossith. He'd swung at Zevran; the size difference between the two of them would have been comical if Zevran wasn't in very real danger of literally being sliced in half. But the kossith reacted to me and brought his oversized sword around and I caught it squarely.

"Gah!" The impact rattled everything from the shield up to my head. But it also hurt the kossith; he was probably expecting a deflection rather than a full stop. He winced as his sword slammed into the shield and felt the shock run up his arms. I brought my own sword around in a hard overhand and caught him on the forearm. I didn't see any blood but I seriously dented the bracer; the giant bellowed as he tried to get his two-hander moving again. Zevran leaped in and stabbed at a weak point in the big guy's armor but he backhanded the elf right after the shot connected. The kossith shouted again then was covered in a layer of frost that slowed his movements to a crawl. I don't know why he wasn't wearing a helmet, but I took advantage of the opening and brought my sword up and around and into his temple. The blade bit in, cracked the skull, and did enough damage to make the giant's eyes glaze over. His back ended up against the wall; he slowly slid down it as his knees gave way. I'm pretty sure I killed him, but Zevran stabbed him in the throat just to be sure.

Everything after that's kind of a blur. The elf hadn't been caught square by Neria's cone, but was too hurt to fight. Leliana disarmed her, but couldn't get answers out of her. We just left her; I don't know if she survived or not. I do know that Neria had put a lot of juice into that cone of cold; the leader and the other kossith were frozen so deeply that they probably wouldn't recover. When we searched their gear Leliana found a message from Arl Howe congratulating the foursome on rousting out Grey Warden supporters. Any thoughts Neria might have about healing any of them disappeared at that moment.

And me? I'd just killed someone face-to-face. I'd said before that it's one thing to shoot them from a distance. Taking down Weylon was another thing altogether; I was actually glad that fight was over. But I watched the light go out – permanently – in the giant's eyes, and even though he was trying to kill me, I'm not sure I'm good with having killed him. I don't mean it that way. It was him or me (or us), and I'd much rather it was him. But it's not like a darkspawn; definitely not like a demon or a zombie. This was a living, thinking being that I'd just ended - up close and personal.

Alistair's right: this isn't a game. I don't think I'm gonna sleep too well tonight.

* * *

><p>The good news was none of us was hurt. Zevran had picked up some bruises, but that was it. The bad news was that the fight alerted the bouncers. Girth showed up with a nightstick the size of a baseball bat and a backup crew, looked us over, listened to what we had to say, and then, very politely, said, "I understand. But I have to ask you to leave immediately." I have no doubt we could have taken the bunch, but we unconsciously decided that being nicely tossed into the streets beat out a bloodbath. And hopefully we'll have earned a little good will with the owners and staff.<p>

And with that we went back into our suite, finished packing our almost-packed stuff, loaded up, and hit the streets. Our destination was the docks, and hopefully the Siren's Call.

"I can't believe they threw us out." Neria sounded peeved.

"We did kill four people in one of their nicer rooms." Leliana sounded resigned. "It is fortunate they did not make us pay for the damage."

"I froze three of them solid. There wasn't even a mess!"

Zevran matched Leliana's resignation. "Si, and the Qunari I stabbed did not bleed much."

"But we didn't even keep what we'd looted off them."

"Neria!" Leliana scolded. "When did you get so mercenary?"

"When I realized those bastards were using Grey Wardens to lure in people. And what happened to them? The people they'd trapped?"

"Didn't the letter say Arl Howe was awarding a premio? They are likely in Howe's dungeons."

"Where are Howe's dungeons?"

"Amaranthine, mio capo bella. A bit far away right now."

Leliana. "But I have heard news that Howe is positioning himself to be named Arl of Denerim, so perhaps-"

Neria. "What happened to the Arl?"

Zevran. "The Arl was killed at Ostagar-"

"Oh."

"-and his heir is nowhere to be found."

"I have heard that, too," Leliana added. "I was told it involved some sort of nasty business with the alienage."

I was finally about to open my mouth but Zevran beat me to it. "Si. The Arl's son; he invited himself to a wedding celebration in the alienage. He rapito some elven ladies who were to be wed."

Neria stumbled to a stop. "He raped some women about to be married?"

Zevran was quiet for a moment. "I see. No. 'Rapito,' it means…to take, against their will. But, yes, there was rape involved. Later."

"Why didn't the elves-"

"Fight back? Some did, mio capo di [some Antivan word]. They were swiftly dealt with."

"It would not have been wise for the elves to fight back more than they did." Leliana sounded somber. "As it was the alienage was purged."

"Purged?"

"The Arl's men, they-"

"Annulled the alienage?" It was quiet, but I could hear the anguish in Neria's voice.

"They were nowhere near that thorough, but-"

"And then they locked the elves in? Maker. Just like the Tower." We were all quiet for a moment then Neria continued. "Can't we do something? Maybe-"

Zevran responded softly. "I am sorry, mio caro. But the elves, they know how to survive a purge. And we have pressed our luck in Denerim to its limits."

"Zevran is right." Leliana's voice was soft as well. "Perhaps if we return we could do something, but now is not the time."

"When we return," Neria said, and started walking again.

Leliana fell in beside her. I shifted the load I was carrying and followed at a short distance with Zevran beside me. He must have known what I was thinking because he leaned in and spoke quietly.

"I delivered your message to the hahrin. He was both scetico and suspicious, especially as he thought the message was from a shemlen. I mean no offense. But I decided to tell the hahrin the message came from a Grey Warden. Grey Wardens, even human ones, are respected in the alienage." Understandable. "But he took your message, and said he will spread it among his people."

"Good to hear. Thanks, Zevran."

"You are welcome, mio amico."

Well, it's confirmed. I've thrown a wrench into the gears of canon. Hopefully nothing'll sieze up and explode in my face. Gonna try to sleep now.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I ran into a very ugly situation at work and it's affecting my mood, and therefore my ability to write with my usual aplomb. But I'm going to see if I can channel it into something worthwhile. This chapter's a bit shorter than the last couple, but I decided I'd hit a good stopping point and decided to publish._

_Milestone: 90+ followers! Thanks to _**Cheggcurse**_ and others for getting me there! And 30,000 hits! When I started this I was foolishly expecting to have things wrapped up around now, but it's just grown into a life of its own. My sincere thanks to everybody out there who's reading and keeping me motivated to tell the story. And with that-_

_Story shout out: Please take a look at _**In Times of Trouble**_ by _**The Lieutenant Sarcasm**_. It's a great set of character studies that I've really enjoyed so far, and hope to see more._

**EmbertoInferno:**_ In game Weylon's way easy to take down, but why wouldn't he be tougher IRL (such as it is)? I was thinking combination blood mage and reaver, so even against a group he'd be a serious threat. He just happened to run into Jeff's successful saving throw. And good luck on your next chapter!_

**longmasher:**_ DA:O is an excellent game. Hopefully you've gotten past the parts I'm working on right now so I don't spoil anything for you._

**InsidiousAgent:**_ I'll save comments about the ME3 ending for another time. Yeah, Jeff is immature; he's one of those 40-something going 14 kind of guys. Then again, his military background means he's able to shift gears and get down to business when the situation calls for it._

**Colonel-Mustard1990:**_ Thank you! This is exactly the type of feedback that I'm looking for. And I have to admit that your concern that I'm flanderizing certain characters is one that's been bothering me since the beginning. _

_However, in game Zevran flirts mercilessly with Wynne and Leliana, and certainly seems to have an interest in Alistair. OTOH, he's a lot like Jeff in that when it's time to get down to serious business he's more than able to shift gears. But on the gripping hand, the vast majority of exposure Jeff's had to Zevran has been 'off-duty' time. PROBABLY NOT A SPOILER: there are a couple of scenes drafted out for further down the road that don't involve Zev's libido._

_As for Alistair I have no doubt the guy's very good at swinging a sword and is probably fairly book smart, but if there's a thickness to him I'd say it comes out during interpersonal relationships. However, you have given me something to think about regarding his characterization, and I'll try to keep it in mind as things move along._

**Shikansen: **_Glad you approve of the canon mucking. POTENTIAL SPOILER: there's more to come. WRT the redhead: had Jeff not been so worn out things would have probably gone differently for him and her. And I am looking forward to Oghren joining the party, even if that gives me another character to handle._

_From a gameplay perspective the robes and staffs do give mages a boost to their power, so, in-story, there should be a similar benefit. But the question is why? I thought about it for a bit then considered my mage character in World of Warcraft. He's been wearing robes since level 50 or so, but for a long time he was looking pretty stylish in a shirt and pants. But the non-robe items gave him bonuses comparable to the robes because of the enchanting process that goes into making them. Now apply that logic to DA:O. Why should mages have to wear robes? Modify whatever process is used to make robes and it shouldn't matter what the style of clothing is. (Tevinter style mage gear comes to mind as one alternative.) And staffs seem to act in a similar manner to the robes in helping mages focus their mana flow. So mages get used to wearing robes and carrying staffs everywhere, and the Templars (and the general population) get used to identifying mages by their gear. Take away those things and you've still got a mage, but one that's not used to working without the extra help. _


	46. Not So Fantastic Voyage

**4 August (day 48), morning**

The Sirens' Call is a long, low ship, at least in proportions. Objectively it's only a bit over 100 feet long and maybe 20 feet wide, but subjectively it looks long and low and fairly sleek. It's got a small crew; only 15 or so men and women who camp out on deck. There're two tiny cabins in addition to Isabela's, we've paid enough to be able to commandeer them.

Which makes me feel guilty. Most of the hold is taken up with bulk cargo, but there's also about 50 people sharing the cramped leftover space. Isabela'd said she come up from the south and had mentioned the refugees, but seeing the reality is something different. About half of her original load of people had debarked in Denerim; the rest were going to take their chances somewhere else. I'm gonna have to pass the word that Kirkwall doesn't want them. Maybe they'll get lucky and end up somewhere else in the Free Marches. Or I could tell them the Blight won't hit the West Hill area.

Or is that true? There were some darkspawn near the north end of Lake C, but I don't know. I do know it seems to be safer there than most other places in Ferelden. And they could always walk or sail further west. But if I give them bad info….

How is it possible to know too much and not enough at the same time?

I'll tell you how: last night, sometime, I faded out enough to Fade in for the first time in a few days.

"Thing! How you doing?"

[questioning hiss]

"I don't know, either." I'm still not sure what Weylon (or whatever his name is) did to me, and neither is Neria.

"So now what?"

I looked around my little safety bubble. As always it's floating in the Fade, connected to another 'land mass' by a sandy and rocky road. It hasn't changed, but the road's destination has. The last time I was there (three or four days ago) the road seemed to lead into an open dry prairie. Now that road leads into a dreamified cityscape. From where I'm at now it looks like Denerim did as we approached it a couple days ago. This, of course, brings up the question of why I'm seeing what I'm seeing. Does my physical location have a bearing on what I experience in the Fade?

Thinking back the answer to that seems to be a qualified 'yes.' When I Fade dreamed in other places the distant landscape _seemed_ to very roughly correspond with where I was in Ferelden. I'm pretty sure I even saw Soldier's Peak off in the distance at one point.

"Time for that walkabout."

I summoned the M16 and a couple of spare magazines. I locked and loaded and, despite Thing's hissed objections, headed down the road towards dream town.

"Mind if we talk while we walk?"

[negative hiss]

Thing and I have gotten to the point where, even though we can't directly understand each other, we have a feel for what the other's saying. So, I figured I could spill my guts while we walked, and, at the very least, Thing would be a good listener.

"I killed a guy yesterday."

[questioning hiss]

I told Thing about the kossith. "It's not like killing a darkspawn. There's…nothing there in one of them. It is like killing a zombie. I guess. I've never killed a zombie. And then the demons; they're so alien-" I stopped walking. "You're alien, too, but-" I frowned and dropped my head. "I'm really, really sorry about the time with the crossbow. I had no idea why you were here, and…. Look, I know you so well that I'd hate to have to kill you, so please don't be working for the Archdemon or Cthulhu or something like that, okay?"

[extended, reassuring hissing]

"Thanks, I guess. If you don't mind, who are you working for?"

[hiss]

"Well, that was enlightening. Maybe I can figure out how to summon a universal translator." Multiversal? Where does the Fade fall in on that scheme? Now I'm picturing the diagram from the back of _Deities & Demigods._ Anyway….

[hiss]

"Yeah, I know." I turned to start walking again. "But, you know, you aim a rifle at somebody and they're just a target; if they're far enough away they don't even seem human. But up close and personal? Something totally different. I've never had to do that before. Well, there was Weylon…." I took a moment to tell Thing about him. "With him it was like we were taking the Terminator. But the kossith-"

[extended hiss] No vibe from it though.

"I've got a half dozen people counting on me to be a meatshield. I can't just keep running people over until they stop getting up. Thing is, no matter how I feel about it, I've got to get okay with it. Even if that means I put it away somewhere and ignore it until all this is over."

[questioning hiss]

"I don't know. I've got too much to think about and too much to do and too much to figure out. Like this, for example." I waved a hand at the Fade. "I mean, why do I keep popping up here?"

[another extended hiss that finished with a warning]

"That's why I'm being careful. That's why I brought you with me. If I'm gonna check out-"

And again, time and space appear to be slippery, convoluted, wibbly-wobbly things there, because, despite my seemingly patient pace, I suddenly found myself looking up at the city gates.

[warning hiss]

"Yeah, I know." I could see flickers ahead of me that seemed to be Veil tears, but there were a number of small, steady points as well. Not lights, not the flickering of tears, but rather something more like marked waypoints, but hard to see from a distance. Hard to describe, too, but easy enough to comprehend, at least in my own mind. I looked around; I could see a handful of waypoints, but the Veil tears were still a distance away. "Any ideas?"

[warning hiss], but Thing was clearly saying he thought this was a bad idea.

"Would you rather just sit back and play chess all the time?"

[disgruntled hiss]

"You know the more you play the better you'll get, right?"

[angry and sarcastic hiss]

I just chuckled.

We headed into the city; I guess my goal was the Fade tears, but it was tricky getting there. I'm pretty sure the dream Denerim was laid out similarly to the real Denerim, but the streets were curvier and the houses more identical. I just couldn't find my way to where I wanted to go. The general impression was 'you can't get there from here', but every time I found a new here _there_ seemed to be somewhere else. But then, I hadn't mapped out the real Denerim in my head yet, and I'm not sure I can find my way around unaided here, either. Yet.

And there were the demons. Thing gave me a warning hiss; we turned to see a regular lava-looking model coming at me from an alley. No problem. I warned Thing off, raised the rifle, and hit the demon with a short burst. Guess what? Demons aren't immune to bullets. As least dream bullets. Another burst and the demon seemed to collapse into itself then exploded in a maelstrom of fire and sparks.

[petulant hiss]

"You can take down the next one. I just needed to make sure I'm not completely useless here."

[agreeable hiss]

We wove our way through the city, more or less heading for the Tears, taking out the occasional demon, but instead ended up in a large, open square. The market square, but sans stalls. It looked almost exactly like the market square from Alistair's Fade dream. It was tempting to look for his sister's house, but there was something more interesting going on.

[cautioning hiss]

"I see it."

There was a tall, wonderfully rendered building across the square, but its base was concealed by some smaller buildings in front of it. But I could also see a waypoint there, and unlike the other ones, I thought I could make my way to it. I checked my ammo, sighed because it was low, then remembered I was in the Fade and, for practical purposes, had the infinite ammo cheat on. Only thirty rounds at a time, of course, but certainly better than zero. Sure enough, when I checked a pocket I found a couple more magazines. I think I'm getting the hang of it.

I needed the extra ammo because I could see a number of demons moving around; it seemed they were as interested in the waypoint as I was. Unfortunately the number of demons seemed to be greater than I could comfortably handle, even with Thing's help.

"I think poking our heads in there might be a bad idea." I have no idea what would happen to me if I was hurt or killed there, so I really needed to take things slow and figure them out.

And then the ship shifted, and I shifted along with it, and thunked into the wall and woke up. Neria was sawing logs in the next cabin and there was a hint of light coming in the tiny porthole, so I decided to get up and see what needed to be done. This entry's about it.

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

The refugees are at least allowed to move about in small groups, but most of them just stick their heads out for some fresh air then go back below. Some of them are staying up on deck, but most of those are retching over the rails. At least none of us are seasick.

**Evening**

I've never seen dolphins (sorry, porpoises) in the wild. There's a first time for everything, I suppose. I was just sitting at the bow, watching them leap, occasionally rewriting (reembellishing) some earlier events. You know: for dramatic effect. Neria showed up to see what I was doing.

"Take a look," I said, and pointed to the ship's bow wave.

"Fish! Big ones! But they're…snorting?"

"Breathing. They're dolphins. They're not fish; they have to breathe air like we do." I wonder if taxonomic classification has started taking hold here yet.

Neria was transfixed. "And they're leaping."

"They're playing. Well, as far as I know, they're playing. I do know they're pretty smart. As smart as Cullen for sure."

Neria kept watching. "I know sharks are about this big and just eat…anything. What about them?"

"They eat small fish. And they tend to like people. As friends; not food."

"I see." Neria leaned over a bit further. "I wonder…."

I reached out and caught her by the arm. "No."

She huffed. "How did you know?"

"Cause my kid would get the same look you just did. But then my wife would have probably just jumped right in. And you can't swim anyway, can you?"

Neria actually had the graciousness to appear chastened. "No."

"So I'd have to come in after you?"

"Yes."

"And then the dolphins would have to save us both."

"They'll save us?" Neria got that look again.

"Nobody's jumping in the water. I promised Wynne I'd be the mature adult, so I need to be one at least once. Besides, I think Isabella'd be pissed about having to stop the ship to pick us up."

"I don't think she'd notice. She and Zevran haven't come out of her cabin since we left Denerim."

I looked around and nodded at a deckhand. He stopped staring at Neria and took off for some unknown chore. "Somebody would notice. I hope. Otherwise our little venture will come to an ignominious end."

Neria was quiet for a moment. "I'd still like to jump in with them," she finally said.

"Oh, so would I." Neria looked surprised, so I added, "Not going to, though. Responsible adult; remember?"

* * *

><p><strong>5 August (day 49), morning<strong>

Everybody's confined to below decks right now. The ship's rhythm's changed; it's not moving with the water so much as crashing through it. Heavy seas according to the crew, but nothing they haven't dealt with before, but they'd rather we weren't in the way. Hope the refugees are doing all right.

* * *

><p><strong>Later<strong>

Most are, and some aren't. You pack that many people in that small a space, throw seasickness and questionable sanitation, and you've got a problem. There's a few people laid out, sick and weak, and unable to move much. Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, all the classics. At least they understand enough to keep the sick people isolated from the well, but there's only so much space available.

Neria's gone down to do what she can, but this isn't like healing injuries. But if folks can hang for another day the ride's expected to settle down once we clear some straits and pass Amaranthine. But there's got to be something I can do.

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

"Ah, mio amico. Is there any of your salted drink remaining?"

No, that's not an innuendo. The ship's been running rough all day; apparently the seas are a combo of weather and geography. It hasn't been bothering me or the ladies, but there's nothing like some motion sickness to take the edge off a randy elf. Zevran's pale under his tan and, if he's anything like the worst of the refugees, having a hard time keeping anything down.

The salted drink? I managed to put on a large pot of water to boil; 4 parts fresh to 1 part ocean, then, as it cooled, stirred in some fruit juice. Yep, homemade Gatorade. That along with some hard biscuits (and some of the ginger cookies we'd got for Sten) helped settle stomachs, and that helped keep the hold cleaner.

I refilled Zevran's mug and watched as he took a sip. "You know, you don't strike me as the type to get seasick."

"Normally I am not." Poor guy; there's no lilt to his voice at all. "When the ship has a rhythm; well, it is like a lover. But now it's not even an angry lover." He took another drink.

"Small sips," I cautioned him.

"Do not worry. I will _not_ find myself-" He was cut off as the ship shuddered against a wave. The impact flung us both against a wall. Neither of us hit very gracefully, but I handled the shock a lot better than he did.

Although Zevran did manage to not spill too much of his drink he was a shade paler. "I think I shall go find a quiet place."

"Yell if you need anything."

"A helping hand would be nice."

I gave him a raised eyebrow then immediately dropped it. He wasn't joking, or flirting, or whatever he does. "Come on." I offered him an arm that he gratefully accepted. "Where we headed?"

"Back to Isabela's cabin." The ship jerked and Zevran ended up leaning against me. Any other time he probably would have asked me to join him; this time I'm sure he just wants to rest.

"You sure? Fresh air usually does me good."

"Si. This bevanda, and a cracker. I will be well." We staggered into the cabin as the ship lurched again. "Youoof. You are more than a simple warrior with an unusual accent." He sat down with a groan. "Open a window please."

I cracked open one of the actual glass-paned windows as Zevran continued speaking.

"Since we are alone I would speak with you for a momento. I would know what your agenda is."

I turned around from where I'd propped the window and looked at the elf. His jaw was clenched, but probably from nausea rather than anger. "Isn't this the part where you casually play with a knife?"

Zevran shook his head miserably. "Si. But now…you could be tied to that chair and you would have an advantage over me."

"Don't know about that."

"You give me too much stima [?], mio amico. But back to my question: the Wardens; they trust you. And I have little doubt regarding your loyalty to them. But I would know if your loyalties are divided. Is there another player in this great game of whom I'm not aware?"

The word 'game' threw me for a second, but then I realized the context. "Not that I'm aware of. My goal is to get out of this alive and maybe figure out a way home."

Zevran contemplated me with tired eyes then finally spoke. "And home is not the Free Marches? Antiva? Not even Anderfels?"

"Much further than that."

Another moment of tired contemplation. "I see. Well, no matter. Again, I seem to have misjudged you, and if I have caused offense, I apologize."

"No offense taken, but why did you wanna know?"

"I am – was – a Crow. We are suspicious by nature, and my impressione is that you are..." Zevran trailed off as the ship dipped. He blinked slowly before continuing. "You are…are concealing something of yourself."

"Aren't we all, though?"

A nod. "This is true, mio amico. And I merely wished to determine if your goals are, somehow, at cross-purposes with the Wardens."

"I can honestly say they're not." I frowned. "Although as long as we're being honest, I have to say I'm tempted to head north as far and fast as I can."

Zevran gave a washed-out smile. "And that is the pusana action any of us could take. But no, I owe Neria my life, and will stay with her as I've promised. And you have your own reasons for staying as well. And I am satisfied they are sincere. So please, scusi; I would like to rest."

"No problem." I nodded at his cup. "Can I get you a refill? Or is this the part where you think anything I give you is poisoned?"

"A swift death from poison would be preferable to this subtle torture. But no, I will be fine. Good day, mio amico."

* * *

><p>Sometimes it helps being a crotchety old sergeant. After I'd convinced Isabela to let me make the Gatorade I went down to the hold to help out Neria. She was having a tougher time than she should; there's too many people who just don't trust mages. So I channeled Gunny Ermey and lit into them. I raided our supply of (non-scented) soap and made the healthy (healthier?) folks scrub their spaces. Give people something to do, even in a bad situation, and they'll at least feel like they've got some control over their lives. It certainly beats letting them sit around feeling sorry for themselves. And the ones who didn't want anything to do with a mage listened to me, so there's that, too.<p>

Isabela's happy, too. The hold's cleaner than it's been in some time. As thanks she offered to let me crash in her cabin tonight. Given everything else that probably goes along with that I decided to respectfully decline.

I don't think I would have said so much about our doctoring these folks except that somehow the word got out that we're Grey Wardens. A few of the refugees were buttheaded about it, a few weren't, but most didn't care. But as part of my "get your asses up and get to work" speech I had to deal with it.

"So what if we're Grey Wardens?" I asked.

"The Grey Wardens betrayed the king!" one of the healthier fellows shouted.

"I heard they left him to die at Ostagar." Couldn't see that speaker.

"That is not true," Leliana said quietly. "And he is not a Grey Warden, although his loyalty lies with them."

Neria was watching with a tight expression on her face, but hadn't said anything.

"What about you, sister?"

We hadn't made any secret of Leliana's relationship with the Chantry. It seemed to help keep folks calm while dealing with Neria. "I am merely a lay sister, but yes, my loyalties also lie with the Wardens. For you see, the Maker himself sent me a dream about them…."

Neria and I shook our heads in unison. Leliana rarely pulls the "Maker told me to" card, but when she does she gets all she can out of it. Add in that bardic training of hers and she can keep a congregation enraptured as long as she's speaking. But while I certainly appreciated the help, and could enjoy Leliana's performance from a purely technical aspect, Neria didn't want to hear it. I don't know how they resolved their argument about All Souls' Day, but I'm pretty sure Neria doesn't have much faith in the Chantry's interpretation of things. But the two of them are close. And even though Neria was drunk when she was doing the sister thing with Leliana I'm positive the sentiment was genuine.

A skinny fellow nodded his head at me. "So you! What do you say?"

"I agree with the sister: the battle at Ostagar was handled poorly by-"

"Wasn't it now?"

"-King Cailen. The Wardens did everything they could, but it wasn't enough, and Teryn Loghain was lucky to pull as much of his army out as he did. But it was a total…cock up all round. Don't blame the Wardens..."

Oh, and in case you're wondering: no, Hawke and family are not among this group of refugees.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Still dealing with the heavy seas, but damnit I'm a soft touch. I let a couple of women with the smallest kids take over the cabin I'd paid for. They'll be more comfortable up there and less likely to get sick. Especially the kids. I'm gonna be crashing out with the girls again, but on the floor of their cabin. With Cullen. (Who, fortunately, isn't seasick.) Sigh.

And then there's Neria. She hadn't had much to say since the talk in the hold. But when the three of us were crowded around the little table in the ladies' cabin trying to eat some dinner she decided to clear the air. "Jeffrey?"

I was gnawing on a hard biscuit. The trick is to soften them up in some tea first, but that only goes so far. "Mmm?"

"Do you really believe that?"

"Believe what?"

"What you said about us. And Loghain." She rolled her eyes. "And Cailen."

"You met him, did you not?" Leliana asked. "Was he as handsome as I had heard?"

Neria nodded. "He was handsome, but…." Sigh. "He was like a little boy. Not like Jeffrey and Alistair when they get silly, but like a little child playing pretend."

"He was a twit," I added.

"That is not a very kind thing to say," but Leliana's voice wasn't sharp.

"I could say some unkind things if you'd like," I retorted. "He shouldn't have been leading that army. He should've stayed on his line. He should've ignored the Chantry and let the mages send up the signal." I rubbed my forehead. "Too many should haves." I tried working on the biscuit some more.

Neria stared down at her meal. "He shouldn't have trusted Loghain." She looked up at me. "Do you really believe what you said about Loghain?"

"I think Loghain made the best choice he could. If he hadn't retreated he'd have lost his army, too. Probably."

"And we didn't mean to light the beacon so late. If that hadn't happened maybe he'd have charged on time." Neria sighed. "Alistair was so proud that we'd finally done it, and then we found out it was all for nothing."

We ate in silence for a moment then Neria spoke up again. "And Loghain believes we deliberately delayed lighting the beacon in order to lead him into a trap. But why would we do that?"

Leliana answered. "To destroy the army and force Ferelden to seek help from Orlais. At least that is what I heard from my sources."

"Makes sense," I added. "Loghain doesn't trust any Orlesians."

"And Duncan insisted we send for the Orlesian Wardens." Neria leaned back and rubbed her face. "Cailen wanted to but Loghain complained about the…the…soldiers the Orlesians wanted to send with them."

"The chevaliers?" Leliana asked.

"Yes. What are those, anyway?"

"They are very heavy cavalry. Men and horses all armored like Templars."

"That would be something to see."

"Oh, it is. Perhaps when this is all over I shall take you to Orlais."

"If we make it through all this."

Leliana gave her a reassuring smile. "Do not worry; we shall."

"Then why is Jeffrey scowling?"

I banged my biscuit on the table. "'Cause I think I broke a tooth on this damn thing." I was only half lying.

Leliana made a sympathetic noise while Neria caressed me with a healing touch. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"Good. And don't worry; you're going to get through this. I want to jump in with the dolphins and somebody'll need to jump in after me."

* * *

><p><strong>Late evening<strong>

Damn girls had a slumber party on their bed and wouldn't stop whispering and giggling. Threatening to poke them through the bed frame only elicited more giggling. I finally grabbed the journal and excused myself. I thought about checking in on Zevran but decided I'd rather not deal with whatever Isabela's doing to keep him feeling well. So I headed up on deck and found a spot to write; there's just enough moonlight to see by. The crew's mostly crashed out in lean-tos on the deck, but there's a few on watch. One of them, a woman, might have been off duty; she was leaning on the rail but turned to look at me as I walked by.

"Evening," I said.

"I'm not going to sleep with you!"

I think that was the first time I'd ever spoken to her. "Whatever." I didn't even stop walking. I found my spot in the bow and settled in and wrote.

* * *

><p><strong>6 August (day 50), morning<strong>

Fifty days. I suppose that's a milestone of sorts. I'd have celebrated day 42 but we were on the road and I didn't have a towel.

Seas are still heavy, but word is they should settle down sometime today. After that it should be smooth sailing to West Hill.

So back to last night. I crawled back into the cabin fairly late; Neria whispered some apologies to me, and I was asleep almost immediately.

"Hi, Thing."

[greeting, questioning hiss]

"That's the plan. Let's go get into trouble."

[resigned hiss]

I summoned the rifle and extra ammo, locked and loaded, stepped out of my bubble, and said, "Ah!" There was nothing there. Well, the road was, but it stretched away into nothing. Towards nothing? At least that's what it looked like. With what I'd already figured out about Fade geography I don't why I was expecting to see Denerim, but at that point I was ready to break something. It's good I didn't have anything handy.

[amused hiss]

"Come on." It was my turn to be resigned, but I figured I should at least check things out. So we started walking. It took a little while, but finally I said, "Huh." The Siren's Call was floating in the nothingness; the road I was following led right to a small pier that the ship was tied up to. There was nowhere else to go so Thing and I walked up the pier and climbed the gangplank onto the ship.

The ship was rudimentary. Like (sorry) something out of a video game. All the basic, important stuff was there, but the little detail items just weren't there. No cargo, no crew, but there were couple of figures at the far end of the deck. Both were humanoid, one wearing standard issue Ferelden clothing, the other wearing a bright white tunic and those sexy boots. The maybe Isabela was leaning forward; she had the other figure trapped between herself and a wall and was speaking softly to him. The man she'd trapped was curled up on himself and trying to squeeze through the wall to get away from the woman. And he was radiating _something_ that turned him into a waypoint. Not light. His presence seemed heavier than the surroundings; he seemed to be more there, more in focus than the other things I was seeing. As solid and as real as Isabela seemed to be this guy was _realer_. If that makes any sense.

I did a quick head swivel; I didn't wanna let something sneak up on me, and whispered to Thing, "Cover my back."

Isabela heard me and spun around. She rippled but kept her form, but in that instant I could see the blank features of a desire demon.

[warning hiss], followed immediately by me snapping the rifle up and sighting on not-Isabela. I was playing a dangerous game and wanted to make sure the odds were on my side as much as they could be.

"Hello, sweet thing." There was a distinctly sensual timbre to her voice, but, as much as it resembled her, whatever I was looking at was clearly not Isabela. The demon slowly strolled towards me, hips swinging as she walked, and not quite successfully aping Isabela's manners. "Where did you come from?"

I _clicked_ off the safety. "That's far enough."

D-Isabel stopped about ten yards away. "So it is a weapon. At least you believe it is." She reached a hand down and stroked it up her thigh, not stopping until she reached her groin. She squeezed herself gently. "Interesting." She turned and started at right angles to me, but took a moment to look at Thing. "_That_…is interesting, too."

I tracked her movements. "I think so. And why don't you stop moving. I don't think you'd like me to use this."

D-Isabel continued walking. "I don't suppose you'd care to demonstrate it for me?" Her hand slid up her tunic and squeezed a comically large breast.

Thing was crouched, ready to spring. I kept the demon in my sights. "No warning shots. Stop there or I will use it." I _clicked_ the fire selector to auto.

She did stop but considered me as she turned. "You…desire…knowledge. I can give that to you. And other things." Her form shimmered and melted and she morphed into Leliana. The copy was…okay, I guess. But the little details were off. The hair and eyes weren't right, and the spark that makes Leliana desirable just wasn't there. And the boobs were still way too big. "This form is more pleasing to you?"

I kept the rifle up. "Don't be insulted if I don't believe you. About the knowledge. Good try on Leliana, though."

[extended hissing]

"Yeah, I know."

D-Leliana spoke again. "And the knowledge. Is this is what you want?" She held up a slim book.

I was sure it wasn't real, but why wasn't she tempting me by putting the info directly into my head like the demon at the Tower did? Or why wasn't she manipulating the Fade around me to make me see what I wanted to see? More questions and not enough answers. "I said-"

"You don't believe me."

"Why should I?"

[hiss]

D-Leliana looked back to the other individual; I followed her gaze for an instant. He was still curled up against the wall, but staring at us with bugged eyes. He looked young. "I will…ignore this one."

"You'll ignore him anyway."

The smile froze and the demon's eyes flashed angrily. "He was mine, and still may be. You are not one to-" She stopped as I shifted the rifle. The smile warmed again. "But you interest me more." She put the book on the railing. "A gift. I claim no obligations for it." She looked around. "You interest me greatly." And with that the demon vaulted the railing and dropped out of sight. There was no splash.

[extended hissing]

"I have no idea. But I'm not sticking my head over the side. I don't even want the book." I walked up to it and used the rifle's muzzle to push it over the rail. Still no splash. I safed the weapon and turned towards the young man. He was watching me with panicked eyes. I looked at Thing. "I think you should stay here."

[agreeing hiss]

"Hey!" I called gently. "Demon's gone. It's safe." _I think._

The boy (he looked to be in his teens) just stared at me.

"Don't worry about Thing here; he's a good guy." I took a few steps towards the kid. He looked familiar. "Do I know you?"

No answer.

"You do know you're in the Fade, right?" Nothing. "Well, I'm not a demon. Thing's…well, I don't know what Thing is, but he's cool." Still nothing. "Neither of us are gonna hurt you."

Still no answer.

"I'm Jeff. Look, I know you're pretty scared right now, but I promise I won't hurt you. Thing won't either."

[reassuring hiss] that caused the boy to flinch.

I glanced at Thing. "Maybe you shouldn't talk. Anyway, uhm…." What to say? "We don't…want anything from you, and we won't hurt you, and…tell you what. I'm just going to go sit over here and if you want to talk you're welcome to." I moved back towards the little place I'd found at the bow. "Interesting." The little details that'd been missing from other parts of the ship were present there. The coil of rope, the nicely fitted little seat, and the box of tools tucked under the seat. All there. I started to say something about it but I suddenly realized the boy, and the _thereness_ he was radiating, were both gone. "Alrighty then."

I looked around and didn't spot anything else interesting, so, on a combination hunch and whim, decided to see what was below decks. I made a short, uneventful journey to the tiny foyer that led to Isabela's and the two little passenger cabins. I opened the door to the little cabin I'm sharing with the girls. "Hmm."

[hiss]

I, or at least my body (or at least a dream version of my body), was lying there, curled up comfortably enough on a bedroll. I looked pretty peaceful, but out of curiosity I knelt and reached out and touched myself on the foot. The Fade faded and I became aware of sounds and smells and other little details that I hadn't noticed in the Fade. I opened my eyes and looked around; there was enough light to see that the cabin was empty. I crawled out of the bedroll and got dressed. I dug out the journal and thought about looking for a place to sit and write, but then decided to dig out my knife to take care of the obvious thing first and make a reality check.

Reality? Check.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Not a difficult chapter to write, but_ **Beta Reader** _and I had a 2+ hour conversation about the implications of this Jeff's interaction with the Fade. I/We have built up a deep head canon regarding mages, the Fade, and the Harrowing, and it even makes sense!_

_Armor build update: Chest, back, shoulders, arms are finished! Including the lighting effects for the 'shield generator.' Leg pieces and painting are next._

_Milestone: 150 reviews! Thanks_ **Pegueng**! _Oh, and Oghren is down the road a ways, both in story and IRL. But we'll get there._

**StormBrisingr:** _My thanks! Glad you're enjoying it._

**Anon:** _Here's hoping you've got some answers regarding Jeff's dreams. DEFINITE SPOILER: Trust issues will be directly addressed in the next chapter. I've considered having Jeff zip up to Kirkwall, but if that happens it won't be for a very long time. And if he does things will probably be a bit different than he's expecting._


	47. Dreams, Dogs, and Dumbasses

**Evening**

Much too much to think about. I guess the good news is the ocean's calm again; the ship's not fighting the water anymore.

I'm not sure if the other news is bad or not.

Well, it's not good.

I finished the previous entry and went looking for Neria. We're on a small boat, so it only took a minute or so; she was at the bow looking hopefully at the water.

"Hey. I need to talk."

Neria kept looking at the water. "No dolphins."

"We might see some later. But I need to talk. About my dreams."

She sighed. "What's wrong?"

I made my way over to her and looked over the rail myself. No dolphins. "I had another in-the-Fade dream last night, but it was a lot weirder than usual." I hadn't told her about the walk through dream-Denerim, but I was thinking I might have to. But first things first. "I ran into a demon, but I-"

"You what?"

"A demon. A desire demon. You know; with the-"

Neria wrinkled her nose at me. "I know what they look like. But…how?"

"That's just it. I've figured out how to…walkabout – walk around – and I ran into the demon. I scared – well, no, I didn't scare her away, but she left me alone."

Neria looked very concerned. Understandable; I wouldn't want to wake up with an abomination in the same room either. "Jeffrey." She sounded just like Wynne. "This is not good. Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"Because this is the first time I've met a demon." I thought for a second. "In the Fade, that is."

"Jeffrey! You were at the Tower; you know-" Neria winced; her voice had gotten a little too loud. We both looked around, but there didn't seem to be anyone within earshot. She went back to an urgent whisper. "You know how dangerous demons are!"

"Neria, listen to me. This is the first time I met a demon in the Fade. And I know how dangerous they can be. But – _but_ – I need to know: can they possess me? I'm not a mage-"

"As far as you know." Neria looked curious, but suddenly changed to suspicious. "Or as far as you've told us. You haven't-"

"I'm not a mage." I emphasized every syllable. "You can ask Leliana; the Templars at Lothering tested me. And all those Templars popping off smites and stuff at the Tower…. Wouldn't that have affected me? And Alistair would've picked up on it by now, wouldn't he? If I'm really a mage, that is?"

"I suppose, but-"

"Can I be possessed? How does it happen?"

Neria took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Usually you can be possessed only if you let yourself be possessed. Either by agreeing to it or being tricked into it. At least that's how I understand it. I think there's more to it but I never got to learn about it." She gave me her best dead serious trust-me-I'm-a-mage-and-the-Warden stare. "You need to stop going into the Fade."

I shook my head slowly and purposefully. "I can't control it. I'll go a night or two or three without Fade dreaming then I'm in again. That's why I'm asking you this."

"But you haven't dealt with any demons before, have you?"

"Not until last night."

"Why not?"

Oy. Time to spill my guts. "Because when I go to the Fade, I end up in a little safety bubble."

"A what?"

"Someplace safe. Perfectly safe, as far as I can tell."

Neria started to actually yell at me but cut herself off. "But you left it?" she hissed.

Oy again. I looked down and rubbed my forehead. "I…don't…sit around…very well. But I was being careful." Yeah, that sounded lame to me, too.

Another hiss. "Jeff!"

"I know! Just…listen to me. I figured out how to…create…summon…I don't know, a weapon, and I went walking around to see what was going on."

Neria fixed me with an I-can't-believe-_you_-of-all-people-could-be-that-stupid stare.

I kept going. "I ended up on the ship – a dream version of this ship – and there was a desire demon tormenting this kid. He-"

Neria's expression didn't change when she interrupted me. "Wait, what?"

"The desire demon was tormenting this kid. A boy. A bit younger than you. But when she – it – saw me it left him alone and checked me out."

Something dawned on Neria's face. At least she wasn't glaring at me anymore. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Jeffrey, you do know that mages can enter the Fade when they dream, right?"

"I think I'd heard that."

"But _only_ mages. I've never heard of a non-mage entering the Fade like that."

"But I'm not a mage."

"I know." Sigh. "Listen: until we've had a chance to talk to Wynne don't…do anything in the Fade anymore. Stay in your…."

"Safe zone?"

"Safe zone. Stay there. Don't leave it." Neria's eyes narrowed. "Promise?"

I looked down at the girl/Warden and saw hopefulness and stubbornness seasoned with anger. Good combo. And I figured I needed to at least give her some reassurance I'd be okay. So, "I promise. Want me to pinky swear?"

Neria sagged slightly, probably with relief. "That won't be necessary. But thank you. Now, this boy you saw: he was actually in the Fade, not just acting like he was dreaming?"

"Right."

Neria nodded her head at me.

Ding. Oy. Facepalm. "Are you telling me there's a mage in with the refugees?"

Neria kept nodding. "That's exactly what I'm telling you. And you know what? That demon left that boy alone because it thought you're more interesting." She huffed. "Think about that!"

I started to speak but Neria interrupted me again. "We need to go find this boy and talk to him. He's probably an apostate and scared witless. Especially with me here." Another sigh, and she pushed herself away from the rail. "Come on. We need to go talk to him." When I didn't move she fixed me with yet another withering glare. "Are you coming?"

I facepalmed again. "Yeah, but first I need to tell you about Thing,"

* * *

><p>"…and that's why I call him Thing."<p>

Neria was staring at me like she thought I was crazy. Or an idiot. Or a crazy idiot.

Why not all three?

I just stared back at her, embarrassed.

"Why didn't you just tell us this before?"

I shook my head. "I…don't know. I…thought…maybe…you'd think…I was…consorting with demons." Wince.

"Aren't you?"

"No! Whatever Thing is it's not a demon!"

"And how do you know?"

Good point. "Okay. I don't. But…." Sigh. "Remember at the Tower? When that fire demon pushed me into the possession circle?"

Sharp nod.

"I ended up in the Fade, and Thing fought the demon off."

Skeptical look.

"I'm not joking. That really happened. I don't know what I would've done – or what would've happened – if Thing hadn't been there."

Neria's look softened a little bit. A very little bit. "Tell me," she said, "why I should even let you sleep until we're back together with the others."

"Uh…."

"Oh, Maker! Wynne! What's she going to say about this? And yes, we have to tell her!" Neria's entire body tensed up. For a split second I thought she was going to try to sucker punch me, but instead Neria shoved me aside and stomped off. But she hadn't gone ten feet before she turned around and snapped at me again. "You need to show me this boy. Or do you want to tell me you've been having tea with the Archdemon?"

* * *

><p><strong>7 August (day 51), morning<strong>

No Fade dream last night. Praise the deity of your choice.

Keenan is the boy's name and he doesn't look any older than fifteen or so. Pimply, gangly, and nervous around both Neria and me. He was more than a little freaked out when Neria and I pulled him aside yesterday. He wasn't too clear on the dream I'd shared with him; all he really remembered was being enticed by the demon and then I showed up with my "big ugly scary bug." (An apt description, I'll admit.)

"But no, m'lady, they didn't do anything to hurt me. In fact, I remember your fellow here actually trying to be nice to me. I thought it was another demon trick, but since he's here, I guess it wasn't? But that…thing with him. I didn't want to get close to that."

Neria gave me another hard stare. "I'll talk to you later." Then she turned back into the happy little girl. "Keenan, we need to talk. Please, come with me." At the boy's doubtful expression she added, "Please. I just want to talk."

"She's nice," I said. "Go with her."

Keenan looked back and forth between the two of us for a moment, then finally nodded. "Yes, ser. And lady. But ser? Would you tell my mum I'm talking to the Warden? So she doesn't fret, you know."

"I'll do that. Oh, and Neria? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept that from you."

"We'll talk about that later."

* * *

><p><strong>7 August (day 52), morning<strong>

Okay. I guess I need to skip over some stuff or I'll never catch up. But here's what's important:

Keenan's an apostate, although you probably figured that out already. Neria doesn't really want to turn him in, but when I told her the situation for mages is worse in Kirkwall than it is in Ferelden she passed that on to the kid. I don't know what she's going to do about it, but I'm pretty sure she won't turn him into the Chantry. That means she won't tell Wynne about him; Despite her being so open-minded about Morrigan Wynne's pretty supportive of the whole Circle and Chantry thing. Neria's attitude is more in flux right now.

And then around sundown yesterday Neria called us all together. We took the spot at the bow and let Neria speak to us. I'd already spoken to Leliana and Zevran about the generalities of the situation; speaking with Zevran was tough because of the conversation we'd already had. The elf _tsked_ at me, but he did say he

Never mind.

"Listen carefully," Neria said. "I know I've already talked with all three of you, but if there's anything else going on with you that might endanger anybody else _I need to know!_"

"I know only what I've told you, mio capo."

"And I as well."

"Me, too."

Neria took a moment to stare us all down. Then she finally relaxed a bit. "Good. Thank you. Please don't…." She stopped, shook her head, and continued. "Just remember to look out for each other. We're all some of us have right now."

"Si."

"Certainly."

"Yes, ma'am."

Neria relaxed completely but tensed up again almost immediately. "I have to speak with Keenan and his mother. And Isabela said we should reach West Hill tomorrow. And Sten's cookies are almost all gone." She looked at me as she said the last.

"That's not my fault! I swear!"

"I am to blame," Leliana said. "The little ones; the cookies made them so happy…."

I've got to learn how to do puppy dog eyes. Neria rolled hers but didn't sound as angry when she spoke. "Leliana? Really? Well, don't give away any more; I'd like to have something to give to Sten when we get there." She gave us a little smile. "I'll talk to you all later."

We watched her walk away, but before the rest of us could split up Leliana turned to me. A little angry, maybe, but much more curious. "By the Maker, Jeffrey! I know your dreams were becoming more…elaborate, but I never knew it was anything like this. Why did you not say anything sooner?"

I threw my hands up. "It's the first time it happened."

"But you are no mage, are you?"

"Not as far as I know. The only thing I can do that's remotely magey is enter the Fade when I dream. Sometimes."

"But in Lothering-"

"I know. But all I do is dream, and I still know some things before they happen."

Leliana gave me a smile that warmed me. "The Maker has chosen you to bless with these abilities. I think he chose well, for you will use them wisely." The warmth was replaced by a chill, and then Leliana leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "Stay strong," she whispered. She walked away, humming tunelessly.

Zevran and I exchanged glances.

"I believe I already know the answer, but I must ask again."

"I'm loyal. Maybe crazy or stupid or both for following them, but I'm loyal."

"And again, I believe you."

"Good to hear. At least I don't have to worry about waking up dead."

"And our amico bella rosa: she believes strongly in you. But then, her dreams are from the Maker. Do you know who yours are from?"

"No idea. Wish I knew."

"Well, then. I suggest you explore this talent cautiously."

"Good advice."

"Sometimes I am full of it." Beat. "I don't understand; what is so funny?"

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

I had a huge decision to make and couldn't decide on what choice to take. Do I just sit back and let things play out the way they're 'supposed' to or do I step in and head off a bad situation and maybe change a lot more than I ever intended? Whatever I chose to do would irrevocably change things. The problem, of course, was would the change be for the better or not. I tossed some mental coins, internally debated the chance versus fate thing, and finally decided to toss a physical one. I was okay with the result, so I guess Fate told me what I already knew.

"Isabela. Could I have a moment?"

She hit me with those eyes and cocked a hip. "I would hope you would need more than a moment."

I let my eyes linger on those damn boots a little too long. "Actually, it's been a while. I probably wouldn't need that long."

A smirk crossed her lips. "A pity. But a moment you shall have. Especially considering how you've avoided me the whole journey."

Shrug. "I've been busy."

"So you have. But your moment is flitting away."

I dived right in. Figuratively. "Sometime in the future, a few months maybe, but no more than a couple of years, you're going to have a chance to steal a relic, a book, I think, from the Qunari." Eyebrows went up, but before she could speak I kept going. "Don't do it. You'll lose your ship and your crew and you'll end up stranded in Kirkwall dodging giants."

Isabela regained her composure and regarded me suspiciously. "Really now? And how would you know this?"

"I see things – know things sometimes. And figure other things out. But this-"

"Are you a seer?"

"Sometimes. This is something I saw." Technically true.

"And if I heed your warning…?"

Shrug. "I don't know. You get to keep sailing happily around I guess."

The suspicious regard remained. "And what do you want for this…warning?"

"Nothing."

"It's been my experience that nothing costs 'nothing'."

"You've treated us fairly, gone out of your way for us, and kept Zevran distracted for the last few days. Consider it a bonus."

More suspicious staring.

"It's information, that's all. Do what you will with it." I turned away but-

"Wait. Why are you telling me this?"

"Just trying to keep things calm." I know it's cliché, but I could feel Isabela staring at me as I walked away.

And I guess that's it. If Isabela listens then Hawke's path will be changed, but things in Kirkwall will play out more peacefully, I suppose and hope. If she doesn't, well, I know how that turns out.

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

We pulled into the dock in West Hill without incident or fanfare. There were a few people on the piers, but the town was tiny compared to Denerim. Of greater concern was the Veil; way off in the distance I could see the tears flickering like a far off lightning storm. But at least up close there was nothing going on.

The gangplank didn't drop until the harbormaster set up a little table and called us ashore; we had our gear up on deck and ready to go. I carried a couple of bundles down as Neria paid our debarking fee. I stacked it while rubbernecking but didn't see anybody from the other group.

Cullen started barking from Neria's side while I was bringing down one last pack. A strange Mabari was sniffing at our gear; I generally like dogs but didn't want to deal with one deciding our stuff was his. Or hers, as the case was.

"Hey!" I called, but calmly. "Do you mind?" I waved a hand at the dog. "Ffft. Shoo."

Wrong thing to say. The Mabari fixed with me with its too-smart eyes and actually narrowed them at me. It padded forward slowly while I thought _Oh, crap_; I wasn't up to dealing with a ticked off war dog. No armor, and my sword was stacked with the gear.

"Stay calm, mio amico." Zevran was somewhere behind me.

"I'm trying."

Cullen brushed my leg and I jumped backwards. The two Mabari took a few seconds to check each other out. Cullen started a half-circle that the strange dog matched; they spiraled in towards each other and both got a good sniff in. Cullen suddenly _wuffed_ happily and dropped his front end in the way that dogs use to say 'let's play!'

The other Mabari _wuffed_ back and stepped up to me. She ignored the hand I'd held out for her. Starting at my shin she sniffed her way up to my crotch then jerked her muzzle up and into the jewels.

"Arg!"

The strange dog hopped back and dropped her mouth open in a huge doggy grin, _wuffed_ again, spun around, and sprinted off with Cullen behind her.

I let out a couple of choice swears and told Neria to back off when she offered to heal me.

"If you say so," she said as we watched Cullen run off. "Stupid dog. But I don't really blame him; I'm glad to be off the ship, too. At least I don't have to clean up after him any more."

* * *

><p>With no idea of any better direction to head we more or less went the same way Cullen did. We do have a couple of stragglers with us. Keenan and his mother, Brenna, came ashore. According to Neria he'd said he'd rather take his chances in Ferelden than Kirkwall. At least northern Ferelden is safe. For now. I think.<p>

Kinda following Cullen paid off. We found Alistair sitting outside a small building, writing, of all things, in his own diary. He doesn't have a poker face at all; when he saw us surprise, relief, joy, and confusion all crawled over his face. But he jumped up as we approached. "Oh, Maker! I am-"

"Alistair!" Neria squealed so loudly everybody winced. She threw herself at her fellow Warden and nearly knocked him off his feet.

Alistair managed to catch the mage, keep his feet, and turn bright red when Neria kissed him (in a happy, friendly way) square on the lips. But he gave her a huge smile and said, "Sooooo, how was-"

"It was amazing! We drank brandy and ate pigeons and shopped! Oh, the market was amazing! Did you know you can buy these nuts the size of your head? I brought one but I don't know where it is. And I got to drink brandy and moon Templars and I met a Qunari boy-whore and saw dolphins but-"

"You mooned a Templar?" Alistair looked to the rest of us for confirmation.

Leliana, Zevran, and I nodded in unison.

"I sure did! Two of'em! And I told them to sod off! But I'd never tell you to sod off because you're actually nice and- Oh, dear. We have a problem. Well, a couple of problems, but-"

"Problems? What kind of problems?"

"Well, Keenan here is-" Neria stopped and tried to look around, but noticed she was still almost nose to nose with Alistair. She dropped to a whisper and Alistair suddenly looked surprised again, but added concern.

"Oh, Maker," Alistair finally said, but he sounded resigned rather than upset.

Neria hugged him again then started bouncing. "We'll worry about it later. Where's everybody?"

"They're inside, I think, but-"

Neria took off like the Roadrunner. She ricocheted off the building's door then wrestled it open. "Wynne!" She disappeared inside.

Leliana went up to Alistair. "It is good to see you again, and I hope all went well."

"Well, mostly," Alistair answered. He still looked a little dazed from Neria's assault. "But I guess we can catch up over dinner."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. I am guessing we have rooms here?"

"We do."

"Then I will stow my things and meet you in the common room soon." Leliana leaned in and kissed Alistair on the cheek, but he turned red again anyway.

"Ah, mio amico-" Zevran stepped up with his arms open.

"No, Zevran! You are not going to kiss me!"

"You wound me, my friend. But it's good to see you again. And the other ladies; they are inside? I will see you there."

And that left me. I would have hugged him or thumped his back or something, but I was still carrying a couple of moderately heavy packs. And had some introductions to make. "Alistair! Good to see you. I'd try to kiss you but-"

"Maker, Jeff, you all made it!" Alistair actually sighed with relief. "Oh, sweet Andrastre, I was so worried."

I decided against telling him anything about Denerim for a while. "It was a good trip; we took care of everything, but we can talk about that later. But first, I'd like to introduce you to Brenna-"

The tired-looking gray-streaked woman gave Alistair a bow. "M'lord…Warden?"

Alistair nodded back and answered slowly. "Good to meet you."

"-and this is her son, Keenan. I think Neria told you about him."

The slim, gangly, dark-haired boy bowed and spoke nervously. "M'lord Warden. Honored to meet you, ser."

"Yes, well, uhm." Alistair rubbed the back of his neck. "Good to meet you, too. Are you going to be joining us?" He looked pointedly at me.

I shrugged as best I could. "I think that's something else we're gonna talk about over dinner. But for now I think we're giving them a room."

He shrugged back. "Well come on, then."

* * *

><p>I followed Alistair up to a room and dropped the gear. As soon as I did the big lug swept me up in a desperate embrace.<p>

"Thank the Maker, Jeff! I'm so glad you're all back. Well, maybe not the elf. But you? Definitely!"

I was only half-hugging him back. "Even me? Last time we-"

Alistair let me go and backed off. He was turning red again. "Oh, Maker. I was such an ass. I'm so sorry." He plopped down on one of the little beds. "I was so mad at you, but I wasn't really mad, if that makes any sense."

I plopped myself down across from him. "It doesn't."

"Where do I start? How do I start?"

"Dude. Just…. I don't know. I wasn't really mad at you, but…." We stared at each other for a moment. "Seriously. What the fuck was it all about?"

Alistair tried looking everywhere but at me. "Do I have to tell you?"

"No, you don't. But- Okay, listen: when we started sparring you were working me harder than you ever have, but before we were done I was pissed at you – mad at you – just cause you were being a butthead about it." I raised a hand to interrupt Alistair. "I was being a butthead, too; that's why I wouldn't give up. That's why I kept coming back at you. Cause you'd pissed me off by then." I threw my hands up. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Especially for that one real cheap shot."

Alistair brightened a bit. "When you tripped me?" At my nod he grinned. "I used that on a bandit. I think he was with the same group we'd chased off on the way to Soldier's Peak."

That was a surprise. "Did it work?"

"Oh, Maker, yes! Took him right down. And the rest of the bunch saw him fall and just ran right off." He chuckled. "I don't think any of them are too eager to take charge right now."

I half-smiled and let out a little snort of agreement.

We sat quietly for a moment, then Alistair finally spoke again. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"They're called glasses, and they help me see better."

He chuckled again. "Speaking of which, where are they?"

"Buried in my pack. I'll tell you why later. Go ahead with your question."

"Well, you're married, right?"

I wasn't sure where he was going with this. "Right."

"So you don't have any…interest in…any of the ladies, do you?"

That was kind of out of left field. "I wouldn't say that. I mean, they're nice to look at, but I'm not trying…. To get- Wait." Ding? "Uh, let me start over. I'm still married. For what that's worth."

"But if you can't get home….

"If I can't get home then I'll…figure something out."

"And does figuring something out involve any of the ladies?"

I was quiet for a moment before answering. "You know, I had this same conversation with Leliana right before we hit Soldier's Peak."

"And…?"

"And what?"

Alistair gave me a slow, meaningful nod. "And are you…interested in any of the ladies?"

"Morrigan."

Alistair's eyes bugged out. "Are you serious?"

"No."

The eyes returned to their sockets. "Jeff…."

"I know. But, just…come out and say it, okay?"

Alistair started to physically squirm. "Jeff, I-"

"Neria."

"Maker."

"You wanna know if I'm interested in Neria." I was suddenly feeling ticked off about the whole situation. "Is that what this is all about?"

No answer, and Alistair couldn't meet my eyes.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly and felt the ticked start to drain away. "Okay. For the record. I'm not interested – at least not in _that_ way – in any of the ladies in the group. Or Zevran, in case you were wondering."

"But what about…?"

I waited a bit for him to continue but he didn't. "What about Neria?" I asked.

"How do you…feel about her?" Alistair winced at the last few words.

I leaned forward and caught Alistair's eyes with mine. I gave him a solid, steady gaze. Not challenging, but instead forthright. "She's a good kid. Naïve, but smart. In over her head. I'm – along with Sten, I guess – trying to mentor her. We're trying to teach her how to be a leader. She's a trainee – a student – as far as I'm concerned." I held up a hand. "And yes, she's cute, but I don't care about that." Sigh. "What I care about is getting out of this mess alive. All of us, if that's at all possible."

"So you don't…have…_feelings_ for her?"

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know what gave you that idea. I care about her, but as a friend. Enough to take a beating for her in Denerim. But," I continued as he opened his mouth, "we'll tell you about that later."

"But-"

I interrupted. "But what about you? How do you feel about her? Didn't you tell me you can't think straight when she's around?"

Alistair couldn't break my stare so he settled for blushing and stammering. "Yes. I guess. But I don't know how to tell her- I don't even know if I _should _tell her how I feel."

"I'm not gonna do it for you."

"Maybe Leliana will."

I gestured with a crooked finger. When Alistair leaned forward I gave him a gentle Gibbs' slap.

"Maybe I can ask her for advice?"

I smiled and nodded.

"But-"

"Alistair, listen to me. Carefully. Because I'm only going to say this once. You panicked when Neria decided to go to Denerim; you were afraid you'd never see her again. And now she's back, and you're just happy to be around her. But if you want more from her you've got to take the chance."

"But-"

"Don't make me smack you upside the head again. This time I won't hold back."

"But-"

"Stop saying that!"

His mouth opened and closed.

"Just…think about how you feel about her and put it into words. Maybe give her that rose you found in Lothering. Yes, I've seen you playing with it." (Yes, I have seen him playing with it.) I stood up. "I'm going back downstairs; I wanna catch up on things with the others. But I'm here for you if you need me."

Alistair stood up and reached a hand to me. "I'm glad you're back."

I gripped his forearm. "Thanks, man. Me, too."

Big goofy grin. "Come on. I want to hear about Denerim."

"It was a lot like Wisconsin."

"Wisconsin?"

"A province at home. You'd like it; they make hats out of cheese…."

LINE BREAK

Alistair and I watched from across the room as Neria spoke to Sten. She barely comes up to his chest, but Sten listened to her respectfully. More likely patiently. She handed the Qunari the cookie tin; he opened it and looked quizzically at its general lack of contents. Neria spoke some more, hesitantly, and Sten actually smiled slightly at her discomfiture, although the mask slipped back into place as she continued. Then Sten took a moment to speak. Neria listened carefully, nodding, and asked a question that Sten answered with a sharp nod. Then Sten bowed, very slightly, to Neria, and spoke again. Neria responded with a warm smile then she leaped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and dangled there as she hugged him. Sten looked embarrassed but patted Neria very carefully on the back, and then bent over until her feet reached the ground. They spoke again, very briefly, and then Neria broke away and trotted over to where I was sittng with Alistair.

"What," Alistair asked, "was that all about?"

Neria explained about the tin and the cookies and the refugees. "So I gave him the tin and the last few cookies, and said that maybe he could keep his socks in it until we found another bakery, and that I hoped he wasn't mad about giving away his gift."

"So was he?"

"He said the children were happier, and that was a good use for the cookies. Then he called me compassionate and said caring for the others is worthy of respect. Then he said that's not my role and asked when we would be confronting the Archdemon."

Alistair and I looked over to where Sten was standing; the giant regarded us for a moment then turned away.

LINE BREAK

**Late evening**

Alistair and I were still talking quietly at the end of the table while the others were catching up. I hoisted my cider (the beer here is awful) and toasted Alistair. "It is good to see you again. And, frankly, I didn't know how you'd be acting when I got here, so I'm glad we're good."

Alistair looked a bit embarrassed. "I had to listen to Wynne scold me the whole way."

Morrigan's voice carried down the table. "You are joking!"

"I am not joking!" Neria sounded offended.

"She is not; our capo bella displayed her lovely culo to the Templars. It's a shame it was concealed by her smallclothes."

"Antagonizing Templars was a poor decision."

"Sten, I think you have a lot to learn about Neria." Wynne's soft voice carried surprisingly well.

"Ah, the Templars," Leliana added with a huge smile. "If we could have only seen their faces."

Alistair suddenly turned red and looked into his beer.

I hoisted my drink and quietly toasted the group. "It's good to be back."

Alistair looked up from his cup. "Good to have you back. All of you."

* * *

><p><em>AN: given that Chapter 50 is only a few updates away I thought I'd ask everybody out there: Do you want something different or special for that milestone? Or should I just keep plugging away at the story? I'm good either way, and as of right now I don't feel like I need a break._

_So, Jeff decided to muck with canon some more. The question, of course, is whether Isabela will actually act on the information she's got now?_

_Story shout out! I'm gonna take you off-site for this one, but it's a great little crossover. www dot strangehorizons dot . Or just do a search for 'The Great Old Pumpkin.'_

_Milestone: 75 favorites! Thanks **TheLastHuman, seekeroflight90, . , **and **Silver Dreamcatcher2525**!_

_**saffry:** Thanks and welcome aboard!_

_**Guest:** The timeline for getting to Kirkwall isn't a problem. However, Jeff would have to decide that he actually wants or needs to go. This is one of those 'we'll see' things._

_**Shinkansen:** Sometimes the logic works, sometimes it doesn't. Hopefully the eyeful is a good one, but I always appreciate constructive criticism._

_**shotgunserenade:** HHGttG reference for the win! Did you pick up the other one in the earlier chapters?_

_**OurLadyoftheBonBons:** Thank you; I really appreciate the sentiment. And I love your screen name._

_**D-Ro2593:** I read your latest update (_**Tales of an Unlikely Mage**_) and had to back out until I'd finished up with my chapter for fear of too closely following your ideas. But that's how things work sometimes; you get inspired by something you read or see or that happens and eventually on paper it takes on a life of its own._

_The Fade is a huge place, but Jeff's only managed to explore a single grain of sand in an ocean of infinity. But I'm not sure you have something specific in mind or were just throwing that out there as an idea._

_Regarding the desire demon I had the same question you did, but after thinking about it I figured the demon would be dealing with two sets of desires: Jeff's and Keenan's. Jeff's desires probably mirrored the boy's, so the easiest route for it to take would be the leather goddesses. SPOILER: your thinking here is pretty much in line with mine. Expect some angst in the future._

_**The Lieutenant Sarcasm: **I enjoy Isabela also, and I'm sorry she didn't have more of a role to play. So far Jeff's been able to pass off his knowledge as either pre-trip research or stuff picked up from his trips to the Fade. But I have to agree with an earlier review regarding Zevran's recruitment. I feel I rushed that chapter a bit and should have had a more in-depth discussion regarding taking on Zevran. I might (might) eventually go back and re-write the chapter, but for now I'll let it stand._

_**StormBrisingr: **SPOILER: Good catch! We're going to see something along those lines very soon. The only reason Jeff didn't meet Neria in the Fade is because she wasn't asleep when he stopped by._


	48. Clearing Things Up

**8 August (day 52), late morning to afternoon**

Oy. What a morning.

Alistair and I had stayed up late talking. About nothing in particular, just BSing the way a couple of guys do when there's nothing else to do. We swapped some stories. I traded some of an abusive father with his of being kicked out of the house. Castle. Whatever. He wondered what it would be like to have a family; I got morose and talked about mine a little bit. We swapped training stories; you'd be surprised how much Templar boot camp is like any other boot camp. Although it seems we both had good drill sergeants.

We got to sleep a bit too late, but I didn't Fade dream. I woke up feeling pretty good from having slept in a bed, got dressed, and made my way to the jakes. On the way back I suddenly found myself surrounded by women. But not in a good way. Wynne, Neria, and Morrigan didn't quite ambush me, but they did keep me from going anywhere. And Keenan was standing behind the ladies and looking very nervous. Neria looked a bit apologetic. Morrigan, OTOH, looked both curious and amused. (And cold.)

The reason for the expressions on those two was Wynne. She fixed me with a stare that had to have been brutally effective in bringing mage apprentices (and maybe even the occasional Templar) into line.

It didn't work on me, though. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Wynne's face tightened and she turned the stare up to the next level.

I wiped the corner of my mouth with my shirt. "Better?"

Morrigan burst out laughing. "I warned you this would not work."

Wynne gave the witch a quick, useless glance and came back to me. "Dreams of the Fade?"

I nodded as I answered. "Dreams of the Fade."

"And you didn't think to tell us?"

"I was trying to figure-"

"Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

"For a mage, yes. But I'm not a mage."

"He's not," Neria added.

Wynne gave her a cross look. "I know what everybody's told me but-"

"Should we go wake up Alistair and have him smite me? And try everything else that Templars do to mages? Because I think the Templars in Lothering tried that and guess what? Survey says-" I started to make a buzzing noise but stopped myself. "Nothing."

"Do not be so flippant."

"I have to be."

Wynne gave me that exasperated look of hers.

Sigh. "Fine. What do you need to know, and what are we doing, and is it going to hurt?"

* * *

><p>I heard Morrigan's voice. "He has awakened."<p>

Neria and I spoke at the same time. "I told you it wouldn't work." She let me continue. "Everything just goes black then I wake up a while later. No dreams of any kind."

"And that is the way a sleep hex is supposed to work," Morrigan said. "And stop staring at my breasts!"

"I'm not. I'm looking at the pendant."

Morrigan narrowed her eyes dangerously. Neria had given her a silver chain with a small carved mother-of-pearl and worked silver pendant attached to it. Very nice work, and I wasn't surprised Morrigan appreciated it enough to immediately don it. And it is a nice pendant, but the only way to look at is to stare at the wearer's chest. But rather than say anything Morrigan crossed her arms over the charm and spun away.

Wynne reached for me with a glowing hand.

I held my own hands up defensively. "Oh, no! You're not doing that again!" Before knocking me out Wynne had given me a diagnostic that included a virtual railroad spike through the head.

"This won't hurt a bit; I just want to check-" Wynne suddenly stopped talking and took on a quizzical look. "I see," she said to no one in particular. And then she stood up. "Neria, Morrigan, come with me please." Except it wasn't a request.

The ladies left the room and left me in there with Keenan. Poor kid. Scared as hell because he's an apostate, then forced to evac because of the blight, yanked into whatever Fade nightmare I'm dealing with, and now he's stuck with us. Morrigan and Neria both want to let him go on his way; Wynne insists he be taken to the Tower.

But the kid took a look at me. "Ser, are you a mage?"

I tried to give him a reassuring smile. It came out more like grimace. "Not as far as I know."

"But…the older mage. She says you're connected to the Fade somehow."

"I am. Don't know how or why, though."

The boy nodded carefully but looked back at the floor. "Mistress – I mean, Senior Enchanter Wynne-"

"Whoa. She's making you call her that?"

"Yes, ser."

"Oy. Well, what about her?"

"The Senior Enchanter, ser, she's said I'm to go to the Tower." His voice was thick

"She did?"

"Yes, ser, but what will I do there?"

"You'll learn magic and…I don't know."

Keenan swallowed hard and sniffed. "Neria said if I go I'd spend the rest of my life there."

I just nodded.

"I can't take mum with me, can I?"

"I don't think so."

He started crying silently. "She kept me hidden from the Templars when I was too little to understand. And when I did understand we were so careful. And then you came along."

Great. Something else to deal with. "I'm sorry, but I really didn't know."

"It's not your fault, ser. Mum even said we were lucky to be found by the Lady Warden and not the Templars." He looked up at me with heavy eyes. "What's to become of mum?"

"I don't know. Does she have any skills?"

"She's a seamstress, but they won't let her in the Tower, will they?"

"I don't think so. But there's a town not too far away. Once the Blight's over she could settle there."

"But I wouldn't be able to see her, would I?"

Poor kid. "Probably not."

Keenan rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and looked back down at the floor. "What if we just ran?"

"I wouldn't stop you. Neria probably wouldn't either. Morrigan might even help you."

"She's beautiful. But a little scary."

That made me laugh. "You are a raging ball of hormones, aren't you?"

"Ser?"

"Don't worry about it. Yes, Morrigan is beautiful. And a little scary. But she's an apostate, too." Ding. "Talk to her. Tell her what you just told me. She'll help you."

"I- Really, ser?"

"Really."

* * *

><p>Wynne fixed me with a stare. "So, young man-"<p>

"Please don't call me that."

"Jeff-"

"And you know that stare doesn't work."

Wynne frowned at me.

"Much better. So, what's the plan?"

"Why are you taking charge of this conversation?"

"To throw you off balance. Seems to be working."

Frown and stare.

"Either tell me the plan or I'm walking out."

"I can stop you, you know."

"I know, but you'd rather not."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm not one of your apprentices, and most of the time I'm not a stupid kid. We're the…parents of this group and you don't think the kids should see us fighting."

Tight lips and an angry stare.

"So. What's the plan?"

Wynne shook her head but kept her eyes locked on target. I stared right back. She finally rolled her eyes and visibly relaxed. "Very well." She actually gave me a small smile. "I don't know what the 'plan' is right now. At least for you, but your situation is unique in my experience. But since we're going to the Tower I'd like to have-"

"Stop. 'Going to the Tower'?"

"Young Keenan needs to be escorted to the Tower. The poor boy's scared to death, so I'd rather it was us taking him than the Templars. And since it's on the way we won't lose any time-"

"But what do I have to do with the Tower?" I closed my eyes and sighed. "Never mind. I just figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"You want Irving to take a look at me."

The smile turned into a chuckle. "You truly surprise me at times."

* * *

><p>Neria gave me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Jeffrey, but I think Wynne's right. At least about you."<p>

"But what about Greagoir? Will he even let me in?"

Emphatic nod from Neria. "If he doesn't Wynne'll make him. She's got a sharp tongue."

"I've noticed. But what's she planning? All she told me was that she wants Irving to examine me."

Neria involuntarily glanced around the room. "When she talked with me and Morrigan she said she was worried about you maybe becoming an abomination, but Morrigan said you're way too smart to let that happen."

"Really?"

"Yep! And then Wynne said Irving should examine you, and Morrigan said that might be prudent." Another apologetic smile. "And I think so, too. But don't worry; I won't let them keep you in the Tower. You are a Grey Warden conscript, remember?" Now she gave me a self-satisfied little grin.

"Yeah, I remember." At least the Templars shouldn't be able to tell that I haven't Joined. "But what about Keenan?"

The grin faded. "Wynne insisted we take him to the Tower. I threatened to give him some coins and tell him to run, but Wynne said if we did that she'd set the Templars on him. She says he needs to learn how to use his power." I suddenly heard her drive spinning up. "You know, he controls his magic _very_ well, but he's an apostate. What he really needs to learn is how to resist demons. If he was in the Fade like you said he's pretty strong or pretty advanced, but that attracts demons and if he's not used to dealing with them…. Although he hasn't turned yet, so maybe he knows how to deal with them. But they'd probably still want to Harrow him, but I think he'll-" The drive screeched to a stop and Neria's eyes got huge. "Maker! I think Wynne might want to have you Harrowed!"

* * *

><p>"Morrigan? Got a minute?"<p>

The witch regarded me coolly but her tone was welcoming. "Certainly."

"It's about Keenan."

A hint of anger flashed over her features but she quickly stilled them. "And what of him?"

I made sure I was speaking quietly. "I don't wanna see him go to the Tower any more than you do. Can you teach him to…you know…?" I nodded at the feathers on her shoulder.

If Morrigan was surprised at my request she didn't show it. But her tone stayed friendly. "The boy appears to be talented enough, but I do not know if he has an affinity for such magic. And even if he did 'tis not something that can be taught in a few days."

I was disappointed, but that was the answer I was expecting. "That's what I thought, but thanks anyway." I turned to go but Morrigan stopped me.

"Do you know what the elder mage has planned for you?"

"She wants to take me to the Tower and have Irving see if he can figure anything out. Neria thinks she might have me Harrowed."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. "I had not considered that. No matter. But I believe that 'twould be prudent for you to be examined."

I didn't even try to hide the surprise I felt. "I wasn't expecting you to agree with Wynne like that."

"Wynne is a talented mage. And despite her acquiescence to the Chantry's ridiculously oppressive doctrines she is not one to ignore when questions of magic arise. And you will find that the First Enchanter is, despite all appearances otherwise, even more talented and experienced than Wynne. Both, as Sten would say, are worthy of respect."

Couldn't argue with that. But it did make me wonder about something. "Do you think I'm dangerous?"

Morrigan considered me for a moment. "'Tis hard to say. The dangers of the Fade are subtle, and even the experienced may fall to them. Returning to the Tower to assess that danger-" She smiled and laughed softly. "Ironic, is it not? But no, I do not believe you would willingly succumb to that danger. And yet 'twould be most unpleasant to awaken with an abomination in camp."

Couldn't argue with that, either.

Morrigan had one last thing to say. "Do not worry. Neria will not let you be held at the Tower. She cares too much for you – or for any us, I would hope – to allow that to happen."

I nodded but before I left added, "Oh, and I'm sorry about…you know." I vaguely gestured towards her chest. "I was actually admiring your necklace." I shrugged. "It's nice."

Morrigan studied me for a moment then her face softened. "My thanks. 'Twas a gift from Neria. 'Twas unexpected, and appreciated."

"Looks good on you."

Her expression hardened again. "Flattery does not become you. Be off."

* * *

><p>Our travel map was spread out on the table and everybody crowded around.<p>

Neria spoke first. "Our next destination was supposed to be Orzammar. But we've come to a decision regarding Keenan; we're taking him to the Tower." There was a soft gasp from end of the table; Neria looked at Brenna with a neutral face. "I'm sorry, but it's probably for the best."

"If you say so, m'lady."

"Please, just call-"

"How long will _this_ side trip take." Sten looked more put out than usual.

Neria traced a route on the map. "We have to go through Calenhad anyway; this should only take a couple of days."

"We could forgo that journey altogether," Morrigan said.

I agreed but didn't say anything.

"And leave the boss seraboss unchained? No."

"Chained?" Keenan asked, his voice cracking. "I didn't know-"

"The Qunari chain our mages. Your Chantry allows mages much more freedom than is safe. You, unfortunately, will not be chained. You will be confined and guarded."

"It's not as bad as Sten makes it sound," Wynne added.

Keenan didn't answer her.

"It'll be okay," Neria said, but I don't think Keenan believed her. She dropped her finger to the map again. "Then back to Calenhad, and then we follow the…Imperial Highway to…Gwaren's Pass, and then on to Orzammar." She tapped the map. "And we recruit the dwarves."

I spoke up. "It may not-"

Zevran had spoken at the same time. "The dwarves are-"

Leliana had something to say, too. "Orzammar-"

Neria's eyes bounced between the three of us, but none of us spoke back up.

Alistair broke the silence. "I've heard some rumors, too. The dwarves lost their king a while ago and are having trouble with the succession."

"I heard the same in Denerim," Leliana said. "And that the dwarves have cut off contact with the surface."

Neria sighed and shook her head. "Wonderful."

I spoke up again. "But they're so wrapped up in honor and tradition that we should be able to use the treaty to get in."

Neria rounded on me. "Are you sure? Because if we make the trip there and can't get into the city…."

"Positive. They'll at least let us in to talk to their Assembly."

Neria considered me for a moment. "If you're sure…."

Sten was examining the map. "If we are unable to gain an audience with the dwarves we can continue to Redcliffe. But we should travel to Orzammar as quickly as possible." He rumbled. "Even if you still deem the diversion necessary."

Neria sighed. "I do."

Sten just nodded.

Neria stared down at the map for a moment. She ran her finger along the route to Orzammar and Redcliffe then traced a separate one to Redcliffe and back up to Orzammar. "Orzammar it is," she finally said. "But first the Tower."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

We packed up and hit the road right after lunch. I have to say I didn't miss walking a couple dozen miles a day during the last week, but it's nice to have Bill doing the hauling for us.

According to those who didn't go, the trip to Denerim was worth it. We've got plenty of cash (which we've prudently spread out among ourselves), extra supplies, are pretty well-rested, and everybody agrees that the armor was worth the trouble.

"Formidable," was Morrigan's description.

Sten just nodded.

Alistair gave me yet another goofy grin. "Now if we can just talk you into joining the Wardens…."

Wynne gave me a wink and grin. "The blue does bring out your eyes."

* * *

><p>Leliana pulled me aside as we left West Hill. "So you and Alistair: you have made up?"<p>

"Yeah. I think so."

She shook her head and laughed. "Only men. Women would hold a grudge for months. Years."

"I was more confused than angry. He was- Well, Alistair's a good guy."

"That he is. But did he tell you why you were fighting?"

Neria was walking in front of us talking with Morrigan. My eyes or my body language must have flicked that way because-

"No! He was jealous?"

"Well, jealous isn't exactly the word."

"But did you not tell him you have no interest in Neria? You do not have an interest in her, do you?"

"Yes, and…no, I think."

"That is good. But what did Alistair say?"

"Short version is he's gonna ask your advice about talking to her. At least he'd better."

Leliana thought about that for a moment. "Perhaps I should make him certain you have no interest in Neria. Shall I tell him of the night we spent in each other's arms?" Perfect deadpan delivery.

I coughed and laughed at the same time. "As I recall the only thing that happened was you did a lot of snoring. But if it'll get him talking to Neria you can tell him we're getting married and naming our first kid after him."

Leliana giggled. "Even if it is a girl?"

"Especially if it's a girl!"

"Then I shall corner our bashful hero tonight!"

* * *

><p>Neria pulled me aside right after we set up camp. "Jeffrey, you said you know how to open this." She held up the coconut (yes, a coconut!) she'd bought in Denerim. (I'd tried to talk her out of it; the damn thing cost a lot. She still won't tell me how much she spent on it.)<p>

"Sure." I had her fetch me a bowl. I pulled out the diving-knife style dagger I'd bought and cracked the nut open. I managed to get pretty clean halves and even caught most of the water.

Neria stared at the meat. So did Alistair; he'd wandered over. "So now what?" she asked.

"Try the water. You can eat the meat raw, but it's supposed to be better toasted."

"'Supposed to be'?" Alistair asked.

"I just don't like the stuff." (It's a texture thing.)

The two Wardens stared at the nut for a moment, and then Alistair shrugged and scraped out and nibbled on a bit of the meat. "Interesting."

Neria tried some as well. "I think it's good." She turned to Alistair. "Come on. Let's see if Leliana can do something with it for supper."

Why is this important? It's not, really, except for what happened after dinner.

"Sten, do you have a moment?"

The Qunari had, as usual, removed himself from the camp and was doing a passable impression of standing on guard. "I do."

"When we were in Denerim I met a couple of kossith."

"This is not unheard of."

"Well, the first one…." I told him about Girth.

Sten considered the information for a moment. "He is, as he said, what the Qunari call Vashoth. I believe it translates to 'Grey One' in your language. They are those who left the Qun in search of themselves, or were cast from the Qun because they are unable to abide by it.

"That's what Girth told me."

"Then why bring this to my attention?"

"Because of the other kossith."

"The mercenaries of which you spoke last night?"

"Yes."

"They matter no longer."

"This one does."

"The one you killed?"

"Yes."

"He was Vashoth and no longer of the Qun. If there is any sorrow to be experienced from his death it is that he is no longer able to return to the Qun."

"I disagree. I killed a living, thinking being, up close and personal." Sten started to respond, but I held up a hand while I composed my next thought. "I destroyed…something…unique. I'm not proud of it, but it had to be done."

Sten considered me quietly for a moment. "You do not rejoice in victory," he finally said. "This is wisdom. Yet you dwell on those defeated. This is not."

"It's not that simple for me."

"When was the last time you meditated?" That was a curve ball.

"I don't know. Why?"

"You have forgotten your center. You are agitated. 'The agitated dart about dissipating their strength. Centeredness masters agitation.' This is a lesson from the Qun"**

I didn't answer but instead thought about what he'd said. I have no idea where my center is right now but Sten's right; I do need to settle myself. I mean, my head's in the game (as far as I can tell), but there's too much going and there's too many questions and not enough answers. Not to mention whatever's going to happen at the Tower.

"Your expression seems to indicate you agree with me."

"You're right. It has been a long time since I meditated."

"You should do so tonight."

"I think I will."

"I would ask you a question: have-"

Sten stopped speaking and looked up in confusion as a rhythmic _clopping_ sound rose out of the camp. I turned to find the source and spotted Neria. She was, yes, banging the two coconut halves together and trotting around the campfire with Cullen hopping and pawing at her heels. She had a huge grin on her face that I'm sure I was matching. Alistair was laughing so hard I thought he was crying. Everybody else, even Keenan and Brenna, was at least smiling.

I heard Sten rumble.

"Not my fault," I said. "She figured that out on her own."

Sten rumbled again.

"I take it you disapprove."

"I should, but it is good to see the Warden back in good spirits." There was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, it is." But Neria's antics kind of destroyed any chance of continuing the conversation. "And, Sten. Thanks for listening."

"You are welcome."

LINE BREAK

**9 August (day 53), morning**

Sten was right. I tried meditating last night for the first time in Well, I flipped back through the journal and really couldn't find a spot where I'd said I'd meditated, so it has been a while. I think it helped. I didn't lie awake or even fall asleep thinking about the giant. I sat, breathed, breathed some more, and felt, if not at peace, at least a bit more peaceful.

We'd drawn lots for guard duty and I was lucky and got to sleep through the night. For what that was worth.

[welcoming hiss]

"Hi."

[questioning hiss]

I didn't answer right away. I was feeling kind of ticked off about the whole 'go to the Tower' thing. And, yeah, I'd promised Neria that I'd stay put in the Fade. But meditating had cleared my head, and I remembered that I'd promised to stay put _until_ we'd talked to Wynne. And we'd talked to Wynne and she'd taken charge of the investigation and never bothered to tell me to stay put. And I was feeling kind of rebellious. So all I'd have to do was summon the rifle and take a walk and, if my suspicions were correct, I'd end up in the dream version of the camp _and run into Morrigan and Wynne. And Keenan. But not Neria; she was pulling guard duty._

But I'd given my word to Neria.

The decision was that simple. "No. Not tonight."

[hiss]

I took a deep breath and thought for a moment and felt a weight in my hands. Thing hissed accusatorily as I opened the box I'd summoned.

"Sorry, but we're playing chess tonight."

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

We were up early and broke camp quick. We've got rain to deal with. Not too heavy, and the road's in good shape, but we'll still be losing some time. We're also not making the best speed we can because of Keenan and Brenna. But we'll grind it out. We should make Calenhad in another day or two, and the Tower a day after that.

And somebody put toasted coconut in the oatmeal. Blech.

I started to pull all three mages aside this morning but settled on just Neria. "Just wanted to let you know I ended up in the Fade again last night. I stayed put. In the safe zone."

"Really?" She didn't sound skeptical, but rather relieved.

"But only because you'd asked me to."

That earned me a smile. "Thank you, Jeffrey."

"You're welcome, but listen. In three days, probably, I'll be there again. We need to get with Wynne and find out what she wants me to do next time."

"Good idea. I'll talk to her today."

"Thanks." I gave her a nervous half-smile.

I got another smile in return. "You're welcome. But only if you keep Zevran away from Brenna."

"Consider it done."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" I was standing facing Alistair as we prepped for a training and sparring session.

Alistair shrugged. "Wynne's behind you and pretending to not watch me very carefully, and I think Zevran's off to your right somewhere."

I'd also caught a glimpse of our leader in the trees behind Alistair. "And Neria's trying to be sneaky and hide behind you." I shrugged back. "Shall we get started?"

Alistair grinned at me again. "I think you're ready for the advanced lesson." He held up his sword and pointed. "This is a sword. This part is called the blade. And this is the hilt."

I narrowed my eyes in mock anger. "Don't forget: you have to sleep sometime."

We started with some simple moves that warmed us up and stretched us out, but then Alistair did start working on some different techniques with me. Darkspawn, he said, tend to just come at you, but live opponents are trickier. But we both already knew that. Anyway….

We'd just finished up an exchange and Alistair was correcting my stance. As he guided me into the right position he asked, "Is Neria still there?"

"Ah, I get it. No, I think she's gone."

"Good."

I was half-expecting him to smack me upside the head with his flat but instead we went on with the next exchange.

"Good work," Alistair said as he panted lightly. "Let's try the first position again." As we set up he spoke again. "Leliana talked to me last night."

We exchanged a few blows and blocks. "What about?"

"Don't give me that; I know you put her up to it. Second position."

Another clash. "And if I did? Let's try that one again."

More swordplay. "I guess I should say 'thanks.' I think. I'd have needed a week just to talk to her."

"And what'd she say?"

"Third position. That you're truly not interested in Neria. And that if I am I should tell her."

"Fourth position? And I'm not, you know."

"I know. I guess I knew, but didn't…really believe it. First again. But at full speed."

"But what about you? Are you interested?"

We layed on and eventually Alistair's sword caught my hand. "Are you hurt?" he asked. The concern was genuine.

I shook my hand out. "I'm good. But are you interested?"

"Maker, yes!"

"Second position." I winced. "Full speed."

Shrug. "If you say so. Maker! That had to hurt!"

I tried rolling my shoulder. "It did, but I think I'm okay. Probably just bruised."

"Don't let me hurt you; Wynne'll have me scrubbing the cooking pots for a week." Alistair suddenly looked a little panicked. "There's no guessing what Neria'll do."

"I'm good. Good enough. So what are you gonna do? About Neria?"

"Third position. Full speed." We slammed into each other.

"Ooh! I'm sorry!"

Alistair limped around in a small circle. "Don't worry about it. That was a good strike."

"Can I try again?"

"Fourth position. Full speed."

"Neria?"

"Second position?"

"Never mind." Blows were exchanged.

"Good work!"

I rolled my shoulder again and got a lovely _click_ from it. "I think we're done, unless you wanna give'em another show like last time."

Alistair shook his head at me. "That would probably be a bad idea."

"So. Neria?"

Alistair grimaced and turned back towards the camp. "I'll talk to her soon. But you know Alistair's a horrible name for a girl."

"All the more reason for you to talk to Neria." I got another _click_ from my shoulder.

Alistair shrugged. "Alyssa's a nice name, though."

* * *

><p><strong>10 August (day 54), morning<strong>

"So you and Alistair can play nicely together again?" Wynne was checking up on the healing she'd done to my shoulder last night.

I shrugged back at her. "Looks like it."

"And did he tell you why he was acting the way he did?"

"It's uh, complicated."

Wynne smiled as she manipulated my arm. "I suppose you could describe it that way."

I felt a very slight pop. "Right there. What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, it took some prying, but I believe the young man has eyes for Neria." Healing energy flared up. As soon as it faded Wynne's voice turned cold and sharp. "What about you?"

Oy. "I'll you the same thing I told Alistair. And Leliana." And I did.

Wynne _hmmphed_ at me. "Alistair was certainly not convinced of that when you left us for Denerim."

"Well, that wasn't really my fault. Was it?"

Wynne moved my arm around again. "It was not your fault."

"Good to hear. And speaking of Neria: did she talk to you about my dream?"

"Yes, and that was surprisingly prudent of you to stay put."

I shrugged and got a nice _pop_ from my shoulder.

Wynne _hmmphed_ again and ran a hand over my shoulder. "And you think you might enter the Fade again tonight?"

"Probably not tonight. Tomorrow night maybe, but almost certainly by the next. We should be at the Tower then."

"We should." Wynne hit me with another heal. "You should know that I've been thinking about your…talent. And when I spoke with Neria yesterday she agreed with a conjecture I had."

I rolled my shoulder. No pain and no noise. "Do I wanna know? Actually, yeah, I do."

Wynne flexed my arm again. "Did you know you have a permanent connection to the Fade? It's tenuous, but it's there."

"Permanent? I didn't- Well, I kinda suspected it. But…do you mean am I consciously aware of it? No. I guess not."

"Did you know mages have the same kind of connection? But that we are aware of it?"

"Kinda." I was suddenly not feeling too good about where she was going with this.

Wynne dropped the smile. "Jeff, whether or not you're aware of it, by the basic definition we use you're a mage."

* * *

><p><em>AN: **Actually it's from _**The Spirit of the Tao Te Ching**_, as translated by Jeff Rasmussen. But hey, it sounds like it could be from the Qun, doesn't it?_

_If you get a chance check out the 'Enforced Method Acting' page on TVTropes. I'm a fan of enforced method writing. If I need to write something where Jeff is tired I'll try to be tired. If Jeff is drunk, then I'll be drunk. Etcetera. Expect to be enlightened down the road._

_Anyway…sorry about the extra long time on this update, but I was in a rush to finish the armor and ended up spending a fun evening in Bisbee. Totally worth it!_

_Armor build update: Done! Well, done enough for a pre-Halloween in Bisbee! I'll see if we can get some pictures posted._

**Anon:**_ I don't yet know what Isabela's gonna do. I'll roll the dice when the time comes._

**Eviloply Joberns:**_ lol and thanks!_

**Zgogery:**_ As of this point I do have plans to continue through Awakening and some of the events of DA2. SPOILER: I do have plans for Anders, although you shouldn't expect him to show up anytime soon._

**Deo:**_ I don't think I can answer your review without giving away any spoilers, but look for at least one of the points you raised being dealt with next chapter._

**Guest:**_ Glad you approve! But Jeff does seem to have a handle on Step 2._

**InsidiousAgent:**_ Neria can get annoying, but Jeff's getting used to her. Then again, Neria's flightiness is based on some IRL folks I know, and despite their tendency to be annoying, they're pretty good people. WRT Alistair: throw him at a problem he can take care of with a sword and he's got a pair made of plutonium. Ask him to have a heart-to-heart with a pretty girl and we all know how that turns out. WRT Thing: more will be revealed down the road._

**Oplindenfep:**_ Glad you like the choice of names!_

**great northern one:**_ SPOILER: Jeff didn't think about Isabela's between games misadventures until he met her. Expect a similar dynamic WRT to Merril and her mirror._

**Shinkansen:** _I totally agree with the quality/content of the early chapters, although I was still getting my fic feet under me. I've been thinking about going back and rewriting them, but when I reread those chapters I get a sense of bleak desperation. Which is what I was aiming for._

_The Templars are a little tricky. I've designed 'mine' based on their role: finding, guarding, and, if necessary, combating mages and demons. They're formidable warriors in their own right given their training and heavy armor, but they specialize in taking on magic. A very careful reading of the Templar abilities seems to indicate some of those abilities are useful against non-mages, but it seems more like those abilities take down magical buffs and the like rather than affecting targets directly._

_I appreciate the feedback on characterization, although as I've mentioned before I'm worried about focusing too much on a single aspect of a character at the expense of rounding them out._

_Neria (and by extension any mage Warden) is an interesting case. Certainly Duncan has a legitimate need for Grey Warden mages, and a just-Harrowed but very young mage in the situation from the Origin story would seem like a gift from the Maker. And, if things had gone better at Ostagar, the mage would have a chance to get a feel for the outside world and be mentored by the other members of the order. But unlike the other potential Wardens, mages just don't seem to have the experience, ruthlessness, leadership ability, or even the basic knowledge necessary to get the job done. But Neria's smart; she's figuring things out. Loyalty and friendship come easily to her and that's the basis for her leadership style. But she's also learning how to be tougher; she may not like it but she'll have to grow into her role._

_Population estimates are tricky things. Extrapolating historical references to Ferelden (and Thedas as a whole) is probably the best route. By my headcanon Denerim's got a population of about 50-60,000 (medieval London was about half that size), and Ferelden's population is probably on the order of about 1 million (about half medieval England after the plague). But the vast majority of this population would be subsistence farmers who produce just enough to get by plus a little bit more. The army issue is tricky as well. Assuming there was a quick call up of standing forces I'm guessing there were about 8-10,000 troops at Ostagar, although more were available. (By comparison, Henry V's expeditionary force at Agincourt consisted of about 8,500. But because they were on home ground the French were able to field an effective army of about 20-25,000.)_

_Which brings up another question: how many darkspawn were at Ostagar? And what happened to them after the battle? Did they spend the last 400 years just breeding or does something limit their population? What are their population numbers like? I've attempted to field some of these questions in-story and have a bit of headcanon about the answers, and if you'd like I can post some more about them._


	49. Experimental Subject

Okay, that wasn't in the same category as "You're a wizard, Harry," but it did throw me for about three seconds. Then I reacted with, "Nooo." But not a Big No, but rather a sarcastic, disbelieving, 'you're yanking my chain' No. And for good measure I added, "Uh-uh. Don't think so. No way."

Wynne rolled her eyes and smiled at my antics. "Yes, uh, way, I believe you'd say."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. The connection to the Fade is how-"

"I know. But that doesn't-"

"You're an unusual-"

"Templars don't have-"

"Maybe they tried the wrong-"

"Wrong how?"

"Stop interrupting!"

"Given the heat the two of you are creating," I heard Zevran say, "perhaps you should finish your discussion in a more private area. May I suggest the mage's tent?"

I gave the elf a 'really?' look. Wynne just glared.

Zevran gave a quick nod. "Si. Brain. Pudding. I understand."

* * *

><p><strong>Mid-afternoon<strong>

We reached Calenhad about a half hour ago. We stopped for a few supplies but it didn't take long, and we're on the road again. Neria did take some time and bought Sten some more cookies that he gratefully accepted. She also addressed us as a group and offered to let anyone who didn't want to go to the Tower to stay in Calenhad. Nobody accepted.

One thing that's interesting: we spoke to a few people, but there haven't been any darkspawn sightings since not long after we came through the first time. That was about a month ago. Plenty of rumors of sightings, and of people disappearing, but nothing solid since the week or so after Lothering fell that couldn't be attributed to bandits. It's like the horde was destroyed or, more likely, went to ground. Or underground. But unlike Amaranthine the folks here agree that there were way too many darkspawn running about just a few weeks ago. And from what Alistair told us the only problems they had was running into the bandits and some poorly disciplined troops from Highever.

Another piece of info to put on the pile.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

We got a pretty decent distance towards the Tower; it's just visible from where we're at right now, but we're tired and would rather not walk through the night to get there. But that gave me an idea. If I stay awake all night I definitely won't enter the Fade, and that should improve my chances of entering it while I'm at the Tower.

But what happens then? Wynne's revelation makes sense on some level. Mages operate based on their connection to the Fade. But what's wrong with my connection? Why can't I channel any magic? Why doesn't anti-magic have an effect? No. I'm not buying it. If I am a mage I'm one of the weirdest ones I've ever heard of. No. There's something else going on. I'm mage-like, but I seriously doubt I'm a mage.

* * *

><p><strong>Late evening<strong>

"This is an interesting idea you have, mio amico."

"Well, it seems like the only time I go into the Fade is if I'm asleep. So if I don't sleep I don't go into the Fade."

"That is logico." Zevran tossed a knife into the air. It slowly rotated around twice, gently reflecting the moonlight, then landed back in his hand with a soft _smack_.

"Is this the part where you ask me a loaded question and follow-up with a vaguely threatening remark?"

Zevran tossed his knife again. "Oh, no. I am just a little bored. And since we are fairly safe right now…. This is a bad habit I picked up." The knife spun lazily again.

I had to stop watching. I was feeling a way-too-strong urge to pull my knife out and copy him. Or worse, borrow his knife and start juggling.

There was another _smack_ as Zevran caught his knife. "The word about the camp is that you are a magus."

I wished it was light enough for Zevran to see my eyes rolling. "I'm not buying it."

"Really?"

"Really. Come on; you know the deal: I sleep, I dream, I mess around in the Fade, I wake up."

"If you say." Zevran sounded skeptical.

"I do say."

I watched the knife flip through the air again. And a few more times as we walked silently around the camp. Well, Zevran was silent; I was doing my best to not _clank_ too much.

We were a bit of a distance away from the camp when Zevran spoke again. "So. The boy."

"Keenan?"

"Si."

"What about him?"

"I don't know if we are making the right decision for him."

"Well, he is a mage."

"And that is your opinion?"

"I…think that's a fact."

"You misunderstand. Do you think the boy belongs in the Tower?"

I needed a moment to think about my answer. And when I spoke it was slowly. "I think he needs a chance to safely develop his power." Ugh. That was a seriously wishy-washy answer. So I quickly added, "In a perfect world we'd hand him off to Morrigan and she'd hide him somewhere and teach him right." Of course, we'd have to deal with the aftermath.

"But it is not a perfect world, and Morrigan is occupied with us, no?"

"No. Uh, yes."

"There is a Blight, and our bella obscura is with us for her own reasons, no?"

Yes, she is. "I get that impression, but I think her mother sent her along for her own reasons. Her mother's reasons, I mean."

"That is my impression as well." I watched the knife flip again. "So tell me. Morrigan. Do you think she is loyal to our Wardens?"

I guess it wasn't a coincidence we were on the far side of the camp from Morrigan's tent. She wasn't in sight, but sleeping I assumed; she had the next guard shift. But again, I know the score. OTOH, I had a reason to. "She told me Alistair's critical to our ultimate success. Is that what you wanted to know?"

Zevran chuckled. "Critical to _her_ ultimate success. Whatever that may be. But no matter. Come let us-"

"What about me?"

"Hmm?"

"What kind of decision have you come to about me?"

"My honest assessment?"

"Well…not totally honest. I'd just like to know if I'm going to wake up dead one morning."

Another chuckle. "Ah, mio amico, you have nothing to worry about. No. Our bella rosa trusts you explicitly, and I trust her judgment."

"So why-"

"I was merely gauging your reaction to having your loyalty questioned."

"So I passed your test?"

"Most certainly. Now, come. Let us continue our rounds."

We walked silently for a time then Zevran spoke again. "So, the Tower?"

"What about it?"

"You were there just before encountering me, no?"

"Yes."

"And it is full of mages, no?"

"And Templars."

"And these mages: some of them are attractive, no?"

"Are you going where I think you're going with this?"

"But of course, mio amico."

"Then, yes, they're really interested in visitors. Both men and women. You'd probably like the cook."

"Is she-"

"It's a he."

"That doesn't matter to me."

"Well, I think he might have eyes for me."

"Ah. Such is life."

"And there's this lady Templar who could probably snap you in two with her thighs."

"Ooh. Tell me more."

"Sorry, I've got dibs on her…."

* * *

><p><strong>11 August (day 55), very early morning<strong>

It's definitely well after midnight. By my reckoning today's my birthday. Again, I don't know how I feel about that. Oh well. I'll have to see if there's broccoli and beer available at the Tower.

* * *

><p>I was nodding my head and tapping my fingers against my leg.<p>

Morrigan found it curious. "What are you doing?"

"Listening to music." _Riders on the Storm_. There was lightning far out over the lake.

"And should I ask from where you are hearing it?"

"In my head."

"Oh, I see." Sarcasm was dripping from her voice. "Why is it that every time I begin to think you sane you find another way to prove me wrong?"

I pressed a mental 'Pause' button. "Aren't we all a little crazy?"

"Not all of us."

I thought about that for a moment. I'm doubting my own sanity but I'm willing to run with it. Leliana says she has dreams from the Maker but otherwise seems sincere. Sten's devotion to duty approaches sociopathy.

"Are you making a list with which to prove me wrong?"

"As a matter of fact-"

"Aah! Maddening!"

"You'll have to excuse me; I'm a bit punchy right now."

Morrigan's voice softened. "There is that. 'Tis an interesting but clever course you have taken." Her voice hardened again. "Which is why your…lapses into childishness are so frustrating. I had hoped to have an intelligent conversation with you."

I felt my brain downshifting. "Sure thing. Whatever you want to talk about." I hoped my tone was conciliatory.

Morrigan was quiet for a moment. "I may ask you anything?"

_Uh oh_. "Uhm-"

"Do not worry; it will not be too personal."

"Go ahead, then."

"Some time ago I asked who you are. Have you decided yet?"

It took me a few seconds to remember that conversation. "I'm still Jeff, if that's what you mean."

"In a way, yes, you are, but are you not the same man you were."

"I've changed a lot since then."

"'Tis true. But the question is still 'Have you decided who you are?'"

"I don't think I understand the question."

There was silence as Morrigan considered my answer. I could hear the faintest growl of thunder in the distance. "Then perhaps I am not asking the right one."

"Questions have to make sense if you want the answers to."

She laughed very softly. "That is truer than you know. Mother would frequently take me to task for considering answers more important. But are not both equally so?"

"I totally agree. I even had a year of schooling to teach me how to ask questions."

"Is that when you were taught to look for patterns?"

"It was. But I learned other things as well. Like how to figure out what questions to ask." I held up a hand but I didn't know if she could see it in the dark. "I know that sounds the same, but there is a difference."

"I totally agree. So…what question should I ask you?"

"Doesn't that depend on the answer you're looking for?"

"Yes. Yes, it does. I shall have to consider this further. Go back to your music."

I shook my head and unpaused as Morrigan walked away. She's back to enigmatic.

* * *

><p><strong>Pre-dawn<strong>

Been a while since I pulled all-nighter. At least without video games and/or porn. Like I told Morrigan I'm feeling pretty punchy, but walking the perimeter kept me awake. And I'm not even sitting down to write.

Wind shifted and there's a cool breeze coming off the lake. Feels like fall.

* * *

><p>"So you stayed awake all night?"<p>

I shrgged at Alistair. "Wasn't that hard."

"You're asleep on your feet."

"Not quiet, but close. It's been a while. I'll be good when we start walking again."

Alistair shrugged back at me. "If you say so." He looked around furtively. "I, uhm, decided to take you advice. Yours and Leliana's. About Neria."

That woke me up a bit. Still feeling pretty tired now, though. "Really?"

He gave me a slow, careful nod. "As soon as we finish with the Tower. I think she's too worried about you. And Keenan. Poor fellow." Alsitair shook his head. "But…I'm…a little…worried, I guess."

"Not about me?"

"No. Well, yes, a little, but Neria has- I mean, Wynne-" He shook his head in frustration. "About what Neria'll say."

I'd actually thought about this, but it took a minute for the info to percolate into my brain. "Neria's really nice, right?"

"Right."

"So you know what the absolutely worst thing she'll say to you is?"

"I'm not sure I want to."

"She'll say 'I like you too, but as a friend.'"

Alistair tilted his head and stared off into space and thought for a moment. "I could live with that."

_Except you wouldn't want to; it'll feel like she tore out your heart and drop-kicked into a trash can._ Didn't say that out loud, of course. I didn't say anything, but I give him a tired smile and a nod.

Alistair nodded to himself. "Yeah. I could live with that." He clapped m on the shoulder. "Wake up! Come on; let's get you a cup of tea."

I'd started when he slapped me. Although just the thought of a nasty Ferelden blend cuppa was enough to wake me up. "Good idea."

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

Got my second wind a while ago. Stepping out towards the Tower got the blood moving again. And just listening to the banter between the group members as we walk is helping too.

I gotta say, though, the last thing helping me stay awake is nerves. I'm getting a bad feeling about this. I could totally understand why Wynne (and even Irving) might want me Harrowed, but what if the Templars think they'd better hang on to me? Or worse, somebody gets a wild hair and decides Tranquil is the best and safest thing for me?

I went to Neria with this and she told me not to worry. But…

"Wynne," Neria said, "if the Templars ask what's going on we'll tell them Jeffrey was attacked by a blood mage and that since we're here we want to make sure he's well."

Wynne opened her mouth.

Neria just kept going. "And that's _all_ we'll tell them. We'll say what's needful to Irving, but unless he thinks there's a real danger that's it."

Wynne and Neria ended up locking stares. Wynne's 'I'm the Senior Enchanter' went toe-to-toe with Neria's 'I'm the Warden.' I was beginning to think it was a draw but Neria spoke again.

"Wynne, you either agree to this or we're turning around and heading to Orzammar right now. And we'll take Keenan with us." Neria's voice went ice cold. "And Maker help any Templars that get in our way."

_Whoa._

Wynne's face hardened. "Very well."

Neria's voice softened. "Jeffrey, I need to speak with Wynne privately. Please."

I moved out of earshot and watched the two go at it. But 'going at it' is too strong. The talk appeared to be amiable enough, if intense, and when they were finished Neria reached for Wynne's hands and held them for a moment. Then Neria turned towards me and gave me what I hope was reassuring smile. Didn't feel like it, though.

* * *

><p><strong>Mid afternoon<strong>

"M'lord?"

"Please, Brenna, call me Jeff."

"Yes, m'lord," she said with no trace of irony or sarcasm. "Uhm, ser Jeff. The Tower. Is there any way…." She just trailed off and left the question hanging as she looked across the lake at the spire.

Sigh. "I don't think so. I have to go there for my own reasons. But if it was up to me I wouldn't take Keenan there. Neria probably wouldn't either. Or Morrigan. I-"

"I spoke to the witch, ser. I asked her to take Keenan and hide him and teach him." There was panic in her voice.

"Really? What'd she say?"

"That she'd, ser, that she couldn't, but not because she didn't want to, but because she's bound to the Wardens. But- Ser, what about you?"

"I'm sorry, but-"

Brenna stifled a sob.

"Damnit, I'm sorry."

"Ser?"

"If I hadn't-" _If I hadn't been Fade dreaming_, but that wasn't really my fault. And given what I know about Kirkwall, I think Keenan's probably better off here anyway. Sigh. "Never mind."

"If you hadn't what, ser?"

"Doesn't matter. Keenan's better off here. I know it doesn't mean much, but he'll be safe. A lot safer than he would be Kirkwall."

"That's what Wynne said. But at least in Kirkwall he wouldn't be locked away."

I shook my head. "The Templars in Kirkwall are…tenacious. And their commander isn't…sympathetic towards mages."

"If you say so, ser." Brenna's voice was thick. She turned away and went back to Keenan was walking with his head down.

I haven't had much to say about those two because there hasn't been much to say. I've talked with them a couple of times the last couple of days; nothing important, just chitchat. Keenan seems like a good kid, and his mom obviously loves him. And at least they're getting a chance to say goodbye, but that's not much. I guess the problem is I don't know how to do right by the kid. We can certainly spot his mom a few coins and set her up in Calenhad, but I don't know how she'll adjust to not having him around. Or how he'll adjust to the Tower.

…

* * *

><p>Neria, Wynne, Alistair, Keenan, and I are heading over to the Tower. The Templars on the pier gave us a little trouble, but having Wynne with us helped get us on the boat. Zevran's pouting a bit; he wanted to come with us for the obvious reasons but Neria wouldn't let him. ("I am not turning you loose on the Tower!")<p>

Keenan's sitting with Neria; she's got her arm around him and is talking quietly to him. Can't hear what she's saying but I can't see that it's helping.

Alistair just leaned over and asked me to stop tapping my pen on the book. "Sorry," I said. "Nervous habit."

There aren't any Templars with us but we don't want to say too much in front of Kester (yay! Remembered his name!). Alistair gave me a nod and a small grin then looked back towards Keenan. "He'll be all right."

"I hope so."

I have to admit that I'm very nervous about this. Nervous enough that I'm in zero danger of dozing off during the ride. Probably because I have no idea what's going to happen. I also have to wonder: is this my loyalty quest? If it is what's gonna change? I mean, I'm already loyal to Neria.

Aren't I?

* * *

><p>Don't have much time. The Templars reacted pretty much as you'd expect when we showed up at the door. Wynne didn't take any crap, though, and we entered with only a little hassle. And when Greagoir showed up and Wynne introduced Keenan to him the commander just stared and nodded, and told Wynne to do what's supposed to be done. Then he gave me an absolutely furious look, took in the armor, and walked away snarling.<p>

They're inprocessing Keenan right now; Neria's with him. Alistair and I are sitting in the mess hall. Robin was both surprised and happy to see us and didn't mind letting us scrounge a bite to eat.

"Alistair, check this out." My tone was light but I wasn't feeling it.

He took a predatory look at the plate I was holding. "What's that?"

"It's called a dagwood." I'd put together a serious sandwich but had no appetite. "Enjoy."

Alistair reached for the plate with conflicting emotions. "What about you?"

"I think I'm a little too nervous to eat right now." I pushed the plate at him. "Go ahead."

Alistair dug into the sandwich while I dug out the journal and scribbled this down. He shook his head at me. "Oo an dat book."

"Aren't you keeping one?"

"Not like you. Or Leliana. I tried writing some things but I just don't have much to say."

"Sometimes I don't either."

Alistair gave me a serious look. "Wynne said if we make…." He sighed and frowned. "Wynne said if we make it through this history will want to know everything about us. I'm just not sure I want history to know that much about me. It's like…it feels like having someone watch everything you're doing from over your shoulder."

That sent me into some nervous laughter.

"I don't understand. Why's that funny?"

I couldn't explain it but begged off with, "I'm tired, and I'm nervous."

Alistair nodded at me over another bite of his sandwich. "Scared, too, if I know you. You haven't looked like this since the first time you faced darkspawn." He leaned forward and spoke extra quietly. "Don't worry. Neria said she'd tear this place apart if they try to hurt you." He reached out a hand. "I'll help her."

I gripped the hand. "Thanks, man, but…don't do it."

Questioning look. "Don't-"

"Don't do it. You and Neria…you're needed against the Blight. I'm not. Whatever you do, remember that."

Alistair swallowed hard and put down the sandwich. "I understand. But Neria…."

"I know. But you might have to make her."

We just sat quietly for a while after that.

The kid from last time just came in along with a couple others about his age. His name's Zane. Good to see him again.

Neria came in with him, too. Gotta go.

* * *

><p><em>Hello.<em>

_I'm Neria Amell. Actually I'm Solona Amell – that's what the Chantry records say. But I've made everybody call me Neria for so long that everybody just gave in and called me that. Everybody but the Templars, but most of them just call me Amell. But that's something I don't like talking about right now. I'll tell Jeffrey about that later._

_If anybody ever ends up reading this you need to know that Jeffrey asked me to write what happened while he's being tested. I'm worried for him because I don't know what they're going to find or what they'll do if they find it. I'm worried - but only a little - that they'll make him undergo a Harrowing, but Jeffrey's afraid they might try to Tranquil him._

_I _**WON'T**_ let that happen. I like Jeffrey too much to see that happen to him. Having him - and Alistair - and Sten - standing in front of me when we fight makes me feel safe – like we can take on anything. And we might have to what with me being a Grey Warden. Not that I really wanted to be a Grey Warden but when Duncan took me from the Tower he said I'd no choice. I didn't want to leave but Duncan conscripted me and threatened_

_I'm sorry. I tend to ramble sometimes and writing like this makes it easy. But if someone besides Jeffrey is reading his journal I'm pretty sure you know I do. But I promised I wouldn't go back and read anything he's written unless_

_I'd rather not think about that. I definitely don't want to write about it._

_Jeffrey's a good man. Strange too. But a good strange I guess. And it's nice having him around because I can talk to him about almost anything. Alistair likes him too – I think Alistair sees him as a father or older brother. That's good too because Alistair didn't have anybody like that growing up. I didn't either but living here in the Circle I had plenty of people around all the time. Too many sometimes. I couldn't even stop to piddle without having to chase somebody off._

_I think I can see why Jeffrey and Leliana write so much. I've only been sitting here for a short while and look what I've written already. Jeffrey hasn't even finished the cup of sleepy tea Irving has him drinking because he's too nervous to sleep. They're speaking of things Jeffrey's experienced in the Fade and Irving is curious and concerned. So is Wynne. They both know so much that seeing something they know nothing of is a little scary. But then Morrigan knows about Jeffrey's dreams and she's more curious than scared. Although I think being raised by Flemeth has scared the scared out of her. I wonder what Flemeth would have to say about Jeffrey._

_There he goes. Jeffrey's head is bobbing and he's trying not to spill his tea. Wynne's got it and Jeffrey's laying down. I hope he gets into the Fade because if he does then Irving and Wynne can figure out what's happening to him. I'd like to know too so I know he's safe when he's dreaming. I was so mad when he told what's going on with him. But not because of what he was doing but because I thought he didn't trust me. Well, maybe a little about More than a little about what he was doing. It is dangerous especially if he doesn't understand what demons are and what they can do._

_But he seems to understand the danger. And he coped very well with the Fade when the demon trapped us there. And now I'm angry! Because he'd already been having these dreams but didn't tell us. As Jeffrey would say – gurr. Is that a word or just a noise? And now I'm angry again! At myself because I'm not sure Jeffrey trusts me as much as I'd like. That's important because to be the leader everybody has to trust me. Although I'm not sure I really want to be the leader but Alistair definitely doesn't and since I'm the only other Grey Warden I guess I have to be._

_Jeffrey's laying down and sleeping. We're in the guest quarters – just Irving, Wynne, me, and Jeffrey. There's a Templar outside the open door but we'd explained everything to Irving and he's agreed to keep quiet unless he thinks Jeffrey's a danger. I don't know if Wynne will or not – she's definitely not happy with everything although she did get her way with Keenan. Poor Keenan. I stayed with him while they took his blood and tattooed him and gave him a bed and a chest and then I walked him to the dining hall. He's so scared and sad right now. But if what Jeffrey said about Kirkwall is true he's probably better off here. I think so too – I've heard rumors about the Kirkwall Templars. We'll have to come back to visit him again if we can._

_I guess I have to wait now. Irving's examining Jeffrey very closely – he's sensitive to the Fade just like Morrigan. Maybe not quite as sensitive, but certainly more than Wynne. He's making lots of oohs and ahs and nodding his head wisely but that could just be Irving being Irving. Wynne's working with him but she's quiet and still. Irving tried to help me sense what's going on but I'm not sensitive enough to feel the Fade in someone else. I don't understand why Jeffrey can't feel his Fade connection. I can feel mine all the time. It's hard to describe – it's like someone is gently squeezing my mind – like they're softly pinching off some of my thoughts. But when I channel the magic the pressure goes away and I feel like I'm doing exactly what the Maker intended me to do._

_We've been in here quite a while – sunlight isn't coming through the high windows any more. Robin is so nice – he brought a tray of food up for us but I'm too nervous to eat._

_I guess I wasn't too nervous. I nibbled and got hungry. Irving laughed at how much I can eat. We had to send for another tray._

_Watching Jeffrey sleep is boring. Wynne said I should go somewhere else instead of staying here fidgeting. But Jeffrey's my friend and I'll stay here for him. Even if I can't do much. Irving is being much nicer about everything. I guess we'll wait and see what happens._

* * *

><p>AN: I'm really not happy with this chapter. I'm not sure if it feels like filler or if I'm throwing in too much detail and slowing things or what. The ideas weren't that hard to find and there's no problem doing the writing, but it just doesn't have the feel I like. But I've been sitting on it for too long, though, and I feel I need to get something published. However, I'm also dealing with a bad situation at work, and I'm pretty sure that's affecting my writing.

If it makes you feel better (and I know it does me) the next chapter should be out fairly quickly, and it's going to move things along much better..

**_InsidiousAgent_: **Bioware described the Qunari as 'militant Islamic Borg,' so the communism/Confucianism thing seems appropriate. I didn't have a copy of the Quran handy so I flipped through the Tao Te Ching to look for 'quotes.' Hmm…Quran / Qunari?

I also like the Egyptian names, but went with Welsh and Viking names for my kids.


	50. An Irksome Occurence

**12 August (day 56), very early morning**

I don't know what was in the tea Irving gave me because it hit me like I'd licked a 9-volt battery. He'd said it was to help me sleep but after a half cup I was sure I'd never sleep again. But I guess he knew what he was talking about because I didn't get to the bottom before I felt my brain decide was time to shut down. I fought it off just long enough to hand the mug off to Irving.

"Strong stuff," I think I said.

"Oh, you have no idea," Irving quavered back at me.

"How long till-" And that was the last thing I remembered until the dreams.

Well, I kinda remember dreaming but it was more like a too-tired fever dream where I was right on the cusp of waking up every time there was a flare of color. It was the kind of sleep where you know you're asleep and dreaming but every time you start dreaming you get slammed back into the not-quite-awake stage of trying to get to sleep.

I guess I shouldn't have stayed up all night.

But eventually things settled down and I heard [greeting hiss].

"Hi, Thing."

[hissing]

"Nope. I've got specific instructions this time." A moment's thought and I had my assault rifle. "We're taking a walk and seeing where we end up." Lock and load. "You ready?"

[affirmative hiss]

So far everything seemed to be the same. Same ruins, same timeless and spaceless sensation, same deserted sandy road leading away, even the same Thing. "How is Cousin It, anyway?"

[confused hissing]

"Yeah, I know. Translator. Maybe next time."

[hissing]

We kept walking until the sand and rocks turned into stone pavers. I could see the Circle Tower in front of me in the distance; I was standing on the causeway. The repaired, functional causeway. I guess that made sense, because how else was I going to get to the Tower? (I suppose I could have checked for the boat, but the water looked dangerously calm. No telling what kind of Fade critters could be hiding in there.) I decided the safest route was to continue to the Tower, but I took a few seconds to look behind me. The path from the safety bubble was gone and the causeway led back to the lake shore.

[questioning hiss]

"Thataway!" We stepped out towards the Tower. It definitely looked different from the waking version. More imposing and less worn at first, and the windows seemed larger. And walking straight towards it rather than coming in from the side revealed something else. "That's creepy. Does it look like it's watching us?"

[questioning hiss]

"I don't know about you, but I can see a face. Four eyes, and the doors are the mouth. And that…platform I guess, that's the nose."

[hiss]

"Well, I see it." I also saw something I hadn't seen while awake. At the top of the Tower, where we'd fought Uldred, there was a dim but steady glow. It had the color I'd associated with Fade tears but wasn't flickering. But I didn't recall seeing a tear as we approached the Tower while I was awake, and I still don't see one. I'll come back to that, though.

The doors at the base of the tower were standing wide open but unlike the waking world there were no Templars, or anyone else, in sight. But as I got closer I could see three waypoints; two were moving about the Tower..

"You don't see those, do you?"

[hiss]

"Didn't think so. Let's go. Just be careful."

[affirming hiss]

We moved forward and crossed the threshold. If we'd been in a horror movie the doors would have slammed shut behind us, but nothing at all happened. The entry area appeared as normal as it could given that I was seeing it in a dream. And the way points were now above me in the heights of the Tower.

[warning hiss]

I hadn't seen or heard anything but snapped the rifle up just in case. "What?"

Thing gestured towards the open doors that lead to the junior apprentices' quarters and hissed again. I didn't see anything but I knew better than question whether Thing actually had. We eased our way into the hallway, still not seeing anything, and then we both jumped straight up when a giggling and ghostly little girl shot out of the apprentice quarters and ran down the hall. She was barely visible but wasn't see-through; she seemed to blend into the background as I looked at her. She scurried down the hall, laughing not quite inaudibly, and disappeared into the Tower depths

Thing and I exchanged glances. He hissed before I could say anything.

"Deal."

We didn't follow the girl into the Tower but that was the way we were heading, although a bit slower and we took the time to check side rooms. The apprentice quarters looked clear, so we moved on to the foyer. The door to the basement was open, but I didn't really want to go down there. On to the library where I stopped to take a look at a shelf.

[questioning hiss]

"Just wanna check something out." I pulled a book at random out; it didn't have any writing on the spine, no title, and when I opened it the pages were blank.

[hiss]

It means something; I just don't know what. I looked around; there was a waypoint more or less above me. "Let's keep going."

We found the stairs up no problem and came out where the storage room should be. But it looked empty except for the shelves and a pretty young mage that I knew only too well.

"Neria?"

She was wearing a set of red robes like Wynne's and just walking about, staring vacantly at the Tower with a dreamy (sorry) smile on her face. If I had to put a word to her expression it would be content. But despite the expression and the surroundings she looked as _there _as Keenan did when I first saw him. At least until she saw Thing and me. She looked confused at first. "Jeffrey? What are…?" She trailed off and stared silently at Thing then from literally nowhere pulled out her staff and summoned some power. "Jeffrey!"

I'd already put myself in line of fire. "Don'tdon'tdon't!" I held out a hopefully placating and reassuring hand as I winced in anticipation of whatever Neria was gonna send my way. I'd already extended my other arm towards Thing who in turn was hissing quietly but agitatedly.

I'll give the girl credit. Even from the distance she was at I could feel the juice crackling off her. But she held off throwing anything our way in favor of holding on to a threatening ball of energy and staring intently at us with a scared and determined expression. At that point I was glad I'd told Neria about Thing because she was showing remarkable restraint on her part. How many of you could hold back (or even hold steady) if you ran into a combination cockroach and horned lizard mixed together in H.R. Giger's subconscious? Hell, Thing had jolted me right out of the Fade the first time I saw him. Anyway…

Neria was _this_ far from shooting. "Jeffrey! You know what's behind you?" Her voice was cracking. "If you are you Jeffrey."

"Neria, the first thing you said to me was that you thought Leliana and I were lovers. And I turned bright red!" I kept the hand out towards her.

"Jeffrey…?" She held on to the power.

"It's me."

"But…that…thing…."

"That's Thing."

"Thing?"

"Yes."

"Thing?"

I resisted the _Who's on First? _follow-up and gave Neria a straight answer. "This…creature is the entity I call Thing."

"That's…Thing?" Neria slowly released the power she was holding. Her hair relaxed and layed back down. (How is it possible to have static charges in the Fade?) Then she looked at her staff like she didn't even realize it was there, and then looked around at our surroundings as if she was just seeing them. "Is…this the Fade?"

I nodded slowly and carefully; the business end of Neria's staff was still pointed at us. "I think so."

"But…how? This is nothing like when…."

"I don't know, but that's why we're here. Remember?"

Neria blinked at me for a moment. "But-"

"Neria!" I motioned at Thing. "Stay there."

[hiss]

Neria jumped.

"It's okay!" I said. "Thing's a good guy." I started walking – slowly – towards Neria. "You trust me, right?" At her nod I kept moving. "You remember what I told you about him. Right?"

Neria's eyes were wild. "This is Thing?"

I was standing right in front of her. I reached out – carefully – and raised her staff back to vertical. I pulled my hand back as Neria kept staring over my shoulder. "Neria? Neria!"

Her eyes snapped away from Thing and back to me. "Uh…."

"Who else is here?" There was a second waypoint on the opposite side of the Tower. Neria was the first I'd seen, but the third one was tucked away somewhere below me now and moving away. I don't know how I missed it, but it definitely wasn't the little girl.

"I'm not sure." Now Neria looked confused. But at least she was looking at me rather than freaking out over Thing. But then her eyes started wandering.

"Hey! Look at me. Okay?"

Neria's blue eyes met mine. I reached my hand back out to her; she reached out and touched it. The touch turned into a grab and the grab turned into a yank and Neria pulled me into a hug.

"Jeffrey! Is it really you?"

"It's really me."

I felt Neria go limp against me. "Thank the Maker! When I saw that…thing with you I thought-" She pushed away and looked at the rifle. "What is that?"

"A weapon."

Neria glanced at Thing.

"Not for him. He's a good guy." Maybe. Probably. "Well, he's helped me out. So I think he's a good guy."

"But-"

I anticipated all the questions she could ask and gave the best answer I could. "I don't know. Come on; let's go…that way." I pointed towards the other waypoint. Fortunately we didn't have to get closer to Thing, but Neria squeaked when he unfolded himself and started that smooth almost silent gliding walk he does.

I gently spun Neria around and put my free arm around her shoulder. "Come on."

The walk only took a moment. We ended up outside the room Irving was examining me in; I could hear his slow voice along with the deep rumbling of a completely unfamiliar one. I checked over my shoulder; Thing was right behind me. Neria couldn't see him from her angle, though.

"Ah!" Irving said. "We've been waiting for you."

He didn't even finish the sentence before Neria jumped away from me and summoned another ball of power. I raised my rifle and clicked over to auto. Thing let out a low, warning hiss that gave me a virtual shiver but Neria ignored.

Irving was sitting quite comfortably in a chair that was interposed between the bed with my dream body on it and a desk upon which was sitting a large, spiked, fanged, and incongruously soothing lavender-colored demon. Mage and monster both turned to give us a look.

"Neria, Jeff, and…I suppose this is Thing." Irving didn't even raise an eyebrow, but instead levered himself out of the chair. Actually, hopped up is more like it. He was moving pretty spryly for an old man, but then we were in the Fade. His voice didn't have that shakiness to it either. And although he was speaking slowly it seemed more from deliberation than anything else. "Please, relax. And let me introduce you to Keelimur [total guess at the spelling]." Irving nodded genteelly at the demon.

The demon was ignoring Irving and seemed to be taking an unhealthy interest in me. At least I thought it was until it spoke. [greeting hiss]

Thing hissed back.

The demon hissed again in a questioning manner; Thing responded. Sharply it seemed. The two outworlders ignored us humans and continued with their exchange.

The demon finally snorted and turned away from Thing. "You did not tell me," it said to Irving, "that the one travelled with a bishgu [sp?]." It leaned in and displayed a mouthful of ivory.

Irving shrugged. Balls of steel there. "I didn't know. Thing had been described to me, but I haven't encountered anything like it before. It isn't a demon, is it?"

"Him," I said, but nobody heard me.

"Perhaps if the young man here had been better able to describe it I could have-"

"You are correct; the other is not one of us." The demon – Keelimur – snorted again. "No matter," it rumbled. "Until next time." It pulled its bulk up to standing and looked at me.

I stared back over the rifle's sights. I was wondering if it would even have an effect on the demon.

The demon considered me for a moment and then I got the distinct impression it was laughing at me. Or maybe I'm just used to Thing's body language and completely misinterpreted what the demon was telegraphing. Whatever it was unnerved me enough to take a step backwards. I bumped into Thing; he steadied me with a claw-paw.

The demon continued to stare at me. "Tread carefully." It turned and headed for the wall. It stopped short at the stone, held steady for a few seconds while it considered the problem, and then simply bashed a hole large enough for it to crawl through. It dropped out of sight. We didn't hear it hit.

Irving walked over to Neria. She looked ready to make something explode. I don't blame her; I wanted to empty a few clips into something on full auto. But he spoke quietly to her. "Why don't you release the mana you are channeling? And you, Jeff; I assume that's a weapon? Why don't you lower it? And…ser Thing. Welcome to the Tower. Such as it is." Irving bowed shallowly to Thing.

[hiss]

Neria raised her staff as I lowered the M16 and Irving gave us all a reassuring smile.

"Well," he said. "This has been an interesting endeavor. So, how are the three of you holding up?"

My mouth was bone dry. All I could taste was adrenaline and I couldn't get my tongue working.

Neria managed to croak out an answer. "Irving, that was a-"

"A pride demon." The old man shrugged. "He's been here tempting me for years. But we've come to an understanding. And when I encounter him, we simply talk." His smile turned into an apologetic frown. "Demons are something mages will always encounter; not just during your Harrowing. But you weren't given the chance to learn that lesson."

"But…Uldred…and-"

The smile returned. "Come now, child. I know you remember your lessons. Keelimur keeps looking for weakness on my part, but by now I think he visits me because he likes my company. Although that little conceit could lead to my downfall." Irving's sharp eyes turned to me. "I wonder if your situation is the same, although you don't seem to be in any danger of possession from ser Thing."

I still didn't have any spit. Or whatever. I let Thing's hiss do the talking for me while I worked on that.

"It's too bad," Irving continued, "that Keelimur decided to leave. I'm sure his translations would have been interesting."

"I agree," I choked out. "But-"

"Save your breath, young man." I wish they'd quit calling me that. "I have some answers to your questions, but I think those are best saved until you've awakened." He looked back at my sleeping body. "Which I believe you should attempt right now."

"Uh-" Yeah, I know. But Neria said it, too.

"I understand," Irving said. "You've only been here a short time, and with us for an even shorter time. But I think waking up, which you can probably do-" He nodded at my sleeping 'body'. "-is the next step for you tonight."

"But-"

Irving interrupted me again. "We talked before you slept, and now I've seen you in your dreaming state, and we will speak again once you have awakened." And he smiled that damn smile of his. "I believe I have some insight on your…situation." The gentle smile was accompanied by a hard stare.

I glanced at Neria but she just shrugged back at me. "Thing, what do you think?"

[hiss]

"If you say so." I didn't really like the idea, but I was kind of curious about how things looked when I wasn't around. So I walked over and looked down at myself, _hmmphed_, then reached out and touched my forehead. I melted into myself and everything got dark and warm and comfortable. I took a deep breath and rolled over and opened my eyes to the dimly lit room I'd fallen asleep in.

"You are awake!" The voice was young, eager, and Orlesian-accented.

"Leliana?"

"Yes." Her smiling face appeared. "How are you feeling?"

I sat up on the bed as my brain tried to wrap around her presence. "I'm…fine…but…how…?"

"Wynne had me brought over. She thought you would enjoy waking up with me here." She leaned in towards me and the smile broadened.

_Huh?_ I looked around the room. Leliana and I were the only ones there.

She sat down on the bed next to me and pushed her hip into mine. "We are alone."

We were. Even the door was closed, so the Templar in the hall (if there was one) wasn't even 'there'. Things were nice and private. As private as you'd want with a pretty and apparently willing redhead. But…

"I thought you weren't interested."

Leliana put a finger to my lips. "I can not change my mind?"

"It's kinda…unexpected." Very unexpected.

"Oh, you are surprised?"

"I am."

"Pleasantly, I would hope." She slid her hand down to my chest and gave me a gentle skritch through my shirt.

"It's more of a confused surprise. I thought we were pretty clear on where we stood. With each other. If you know what I mean."

Leliana leaned in and nipped at my shoulder. Right on _the_ spot. I shuddered involuntarily. "So you like that?"

Damn straight I did. "Uh, yeah, but-"

She shushed me then leaned into my ear and breathed gently into it. Her hand slid down my belly and ended up on my groin. She giggled softly. Not mockingly, though. "Is something wrong?"

I gently pulled her hand away from me and spun around until my feet hit the floor. "This…doesn't…feel…right. If you know what I mean."

A coquettish smile. One that didn't fit her at all. "I do not know what you mean. Oh, please, do not get up."

I'd already stood up and was walking to where I'd grounded my gear. "I've…got to do something first."

"May I help?"

"No. I've got it." I dug around in my stuff until I found what I was looking for.

"What is that?"

"You should know." I opened and closed a few tools on my knife.

"Would you not rather toy with me?"

"Well, I would, but…." I opened and closed a few more tools. Everything worked perfectly. Sigh. I shoved the knife into a pocket. "Nice try, demon."

Leliana looked appropriately scandalized. "Jeffrey! I am no demon!" Then she tilted her head and smiled naughtily. "Although I could be demonic."

I just gave her an exasperated frown.

"Jeffrey! I am hurt!"

…

Probably-not-Leliana huffed. "Fine." Definitely-not-Leliana rippled and morphed into a desire demon.

I shivered and didn't care that the demon saw it. "Very nice try."

The demon stood up and approached me. It actually look put out. "What gave me away?"

I held a hand out and the demon stopped. "Like I'm gonna tell you."

"Oh, please?" The demon morphed into Isabela. "I find you so interesting."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Whatever." I looked around the room. "Where am I?"

"You truly wish to leave?" D-Isabela took a sensual step towards me.

"If I can. Even you know the mood's ruined."

The demon pouted. Not very well.

"Sorry, but I'm just not interested in having my soul eaten tonight. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, I would not eat your _soul_."

"Whatever. Where's my-" I stopped short when I saw my body. It was on the bed I'd just gotten out of. Hairs went up on my neck. "Well, that's creepy."

D-Isabela turned to look at the bed then turned back to me. She was wearing a predatory smile. "Very interesting indeed."

It was. "If you say so. Now, if you'll excuse me…." I slowly moved in a semi-circle around the demon.

She/it flicked her tongue at me. "Do not fear me; I am not like my lesser brethren. They are simple and direct. I am more complex. And patient."

I made it safely to my body. I looked pretty peaceful. I reached out, touched my forehead, and felt a twitch of reality, but I didn't fall awake.

"Perhaps it is just a manifestation of your desire to awaken." A man's voice this time. I looked, and yep, the demon had taken on my form, bed-head and all. "Come touch me."

I just frowned and thought about the problem for a second. Then I yelled, "Wake up!" and slapped my cheek.

I jumped up in the bed, my cheek stinging, and looked around the room. Irving was dozing in a chair; Neria was sawing logs from across the room. The door was open; the Templar there was giving me the evil eye-slit.

Wynne was staring at me sleepily. "Welcome back."

I ran through a dialogue tree in my head and decided on option five. I got up, found my knife, and performed a reality check.

"I'm real," Wynne said with a hint of amusement. She's seen me do this before.

"Then you won't mind if I make sure." Reality? Check.

"Satisfied?"

"Satisfied enough. What time is it?"

Wynne stood up and stretched. "Early evening. You've only been asleep for a couple of hours. Maybe three."

"Okay. So now what?"

Shrug. "How do you feel?"

I looked at Irving. "Curious."

"That will have to wait for Irving." Wynne approached me and studied me carefully from up close. I guess she was okay with what she saw because she nodded and gave me a smile. "You look tired. Perhaps you should rest some more."

Despite the sorta-sleep I just had I was still feeling a bit groggy. But I was keyed up, too. "Where's my-"

"Neria has it. I think she even wrote a little bit in it. But you should-"

"If I write a little it'll help me sleep. Or maybe I'll read what Neria wrote."

The young mage had her arms wrapped loosely around the book; the pen was folded between the pages. I eased it away from her.

Neria stirred and mumbled. "A cherry tart would be wonderful, thank you."

I leaned in and whispered, "Thanks for holding this."

"Just a dollop, please." At least she was sleeping fairly peacefully.

I went back to the bed, plopped down, and opened the journal. Neria'd written more than a little bit, but I decided to hold off on reading it.

"Jeff," Wynne said from the doorway, "sleep. Or at least come get something to eat."

"I'm a little wound up right now. I don't know if I-"

Wynne made a pass with her hand and everything went blank. Then I was in a kitchen that never had quite enough puff pastry to finish all the tarts we needed. And the oven wouldn't get hot enough but they came out fine anyway. Then I woke up again.

Damn mages. I never did get my birthday beer. But at least I got some good sleep. And now I'm gonna get some more.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm much happier with this chapter. And I did get it out quick; right at the 40,000 hit mark. Thanks to everybody out there who following, faving, or just stopping by!_

**DoorbellSpider:**_ I've got some headcanon built up about the darkspawn. I don't know if the opportunity to address it in-story will ever come up, but I had a long discussion with _**Beta Reader** _about it and she agrees that it makes sense. And I'm glad you liked the entry from Neria; I was trying for a different approach there._

**Macman6453:**_ The POV was an experiment and it's one of the few things I'm really happy with in Chapter 49. PROBABLE SPOILER: However, the POV switch will only happen under exceptional circumstances, and I don't know yet if it'll happen again._

**InsidiousAgent (and great northern one): **_You're absolutely right about Eric. And his brother's name is Evan. (Total coincidence on them both starting with 'E' though.) Middle names were selected on mouth-feel and rhythm when doing the angry first-middle-last name thing._

_Neria's entry hit at a good stopping point. And the experiment that was her entry seemed to be if not a cliffhanger then at least an anticipatory finish. And it also hit around the word count I like to stop at._

_As much as I enjoyed DA:O I had a real problem with the Warden's portrayal. I took to calling my first character 'Data' because of how he stood there emotionlessly during almost every conversation. I liked Hawke's portrayal in DA2 much better. It looks like DA3 probably going to follow the DA2 characterization route (for better or worse); I guess we'll see how that works out._

_If you look at Islamic history they were highly expansionistic just prior and during the Middle Ages. Their philosophy was similar to the Qunari; conquered peoples had the option to voluntarily submit to their rule. Those who didn't were forced at sword point. I think the Borg part is how Qunari society places an individual in his or her role and requires the individual to remain there. But unlike the Borg there are dissidents; hence my take on Girth a few chapters back._

_As an aside you may notice Jeff hasn't had much to say from a religious standpoint._

**SnowHelm:**_ Glad you're enjoying the story, and welcome aboard! And thanks for the epic read and multiple reviews!_


	51. Lack of the Google

**Mid-morning**

Damn mages. I'm still trying to decide if I should have punched someone in the teeth.

* * *

><p><strong>Noon and later<strong>

Punching someone in the teeth would have probably made me feel better. Alistair agrees. So does Leliana. Wynne's lucky it wasn't her.

Okay, let's back up.

I woke up before dawn and, under the helpful gaze of a Templar, made my way down to the kitchen for a cup of the local tea. Again: ugh. I don't know what I'd give for a cup of English breakfast blend, or a Coke, or even a glass of OJ. Probably not my soul.

Probably.

I'd just started scrounging when another Templar showed up. "The First Enchanter wishes to see you immediately."

I ignored the implied order and kept looking for the tea. "I didn't think Templars ran errands for mages." I was in serious need of caffeine (or whatever the local equivalent is).

The Templar repeated his line then added in a sympathetic tone, "Irving always heats a pot of tea when he wakes."

"Why didn't you say so? Let's go."

LINE BREAK

"I'd really like it if you didn't call me that."

"Well, you are a young man." Irving poured me a cuppa tea as he spoke. The quaver's back in his voice. Understandable, I guess, given his age as well as the abuse he took from Uldred.

"I'm 47. 48!"

"Which is it?" He added a generous dollop of honey and passed me the cup.

"48."

"You carry your years well. But to me you're a young man."

I gave in and nodded thanks as I sipped gratefully. (Caffeine and sugar: two of the major food groups.) Irving slurped his tea. We drank in silence (except for the slurping) until I felt my brain spin up.

"So-"

"You're not a mage." Irving tilted his head and stared off into a distance. "At least, I don't think you're a mage."

"I agree."

"And yet I should congratulate you on successfully completing your Harrowing."

"Yeah. About that..."

"It wasn't a traditional Harrowing, but my friend was kind enough to help arrange it."

I decided to let that go for the moment. "Can I even be possessed?"

"Anyone can be possessed if a demon can find purchase in them. It's just very hard for a demon to possess someone who can't reach the Fade."

"So I can be possessed? And become an abomination?"

"Doubtfully. Although Neria was right to be concerned. You have no experience coping with demons."

"I know they're dangerous."

"And deceitful." Irving let out a bit of a smile.

I thought back to the desire demon. "But not very subtle." I suddenly felt very paranoid. "Wait. How much did you know? About what happened? Or what would happen?"

Irving freshened up his tea before answering. "I knew what you and Neria told me. Oh, by the way, her presence was an accident. She drank a draught intended for me." He stared into space for a few seconds. "A fortunate accident, I suppose. She kept you calm and learned a few things."

"Such as?"

"She saw Ser Thing and your…encounter during the Harrowing."

"Great." I felt myself turning red.

"Don't be embarrassed; you handled yourself well."

"That's not what I'm embarrassed about."

Irving considered that for a moment. "I think I see. But don't worry yourself about that. Neria is a kind and understanding girl."

Something dinged and I suddenly realized they'd been watching my encounter. Somehow. I started to ask about that but Irving kept going.

He spoke quietly. "Your Fade companion. Thing, as you call him." Chuckle. "Appropriate, I suppose. I've seen nothing like him in my time, but if my friend says he's not a demon, I'm inclined to take his word." Another head tilt and Irving dropped his volume. "Although didn't it seem like Keelimur was offended by Thing's presence?"

Yeah, it did, but I didn't get a chance to answer.

"I believe, and Neria agrees with me, that you're in no danger from him. If anything you appear to be in less danger while in its company. Wynne may take some convincing, but I'm certain she'll come around to that point of view."

I took a few seconds with that. "Okay, but what about-"

Irving interrupted me again. "Feel free to explore your dreams. Just- How did my friend put it? 'Tread carefully.' Now, if you'll pardon me…." He stood up and relieved me of my empty teacup.

"But-"

His voice grew louder but kept the same slow, quavering cadence. "Thank you for your time, young man. And do look out for Neria; I'd be horribly upset to hear she met an untimely end. Even for a Grey Warden. Or should that be as a Grey Warden?" Shrug. "And no, that was not a threat. Good day." Irving tottered out of the office.

I sat there trying to digest what he'd just told me. And hadn't told me. And then the Templar kicked me out of Irving's office before I could snag another cup of tea.

* * *

><p>Wynne and I had dropped back far enough behind the rest of the group to talk privately. It wasn't going well; we kept going around in circles saying the same thing to each other.<p>

"Haven't I asked you not to call me that? Irving I can understand, but you?"

Wynne frowned at me. "We're of an age, but you carry yours much better than I do. You make me feel older than I am. Sometimes."

I frowned back. "Well, that's better than making me feel like a little kid."

"I'm not trying to make you feel like a child."

"Then why won't you tell me what Irving told you?"

"I have."

"Not everything."

"I've told you everything Irving told me."

"And I still can't believe he only told me as much as he did."

"Irving has his ways."

The tone of Wynne's voice set me on edge. I finally stopped walking and looked back at the Tower. We were a few miles and a couple of hours north, and making good time despite a light drizzle. I could see the darker gray of the spire outlined against the gray of the rain.

Wynne grabbed my arm. "No. You are not going back." She let go when I spun back towards her.

"I might have to." I suddenly went from on edge pretty pissed off. First Irving not telling me more than he told me, and then Wynne not knowing or not telling me what she knows. And Neria hasn't said anything to me since we left the Tower, so I'm wondering what she knows and isn't telling me. I think the only mage I'm not pissed off at is Morrigan. (Well, there's Keenan; poor kid. And Zane. And Robin. You know what I mean.) "You know, you could've helped me with Irving."

Wynne's voice was irritated. "I did everything I could."

I heard my voice go tight and clipped. "Not from my perspective. You just…got your way then sat back to watch. No advice, no warnings. Hell, Neria told me about the Harrowing. And at least she tried to dig answers out of Irving before we left."

Wynne fixed me with an ineffective stare. "You should calm down. And we should catch up with the others." At the glare I gave her she swallowed and stepped back and tightened her grip on her staff. "I'll put you to sleep again if need be."

"You know, I'm thinking getting knocked out might not be such a bad deal. At least I wouldn't have to walk in-"

"Jeffrey!" Leliana came trotting up to us. "Alistair needs to speak with you."

"Go see what the young man wants," Wynne said. Her voice was soft but her eyes were hard and angry.

I stared right back. "We'll talk about this some more later."

"Come, Jeffrey." Leliana took my arm and got me moving.

Ah, Leliana. In case you're wondering I haven't (and don't plan on) saying anything to her about the desire demon's interpretation of her. (I should probably talk to Neria about that but she's not talking to me.) Yeah, there's an attraction there; I wouldn't be a healthy straight man if there wasn't. But the talk we'd had a while back still holds. It helps a lot that we're both clear on what we want from each other. Which right now is just someone to lean on and get the occasional pep talk from. Doesn't mean I won't dream, though. Or turn red if I get busted dreaming.

We put some distance between us and Wynne before I asked the obvious question. "Does Alistair really want to talk or-"

"What do you think?" She pointed ahead.

I looked up the road and snorted. Alistair was zigging away from Zevran's zags. The pissed was gone just like that. "So who should we help?"

Leliana giggled. "As much as I would like to see Alistair turn the color of sunset, I think it would be too cruel. We should rescue him."

"You sure?"

"I am sure. Alistair is too dear for Zevran to be treating him so." She gave me a sidelong glance. "And you and Wynne should not be fighting. It upsets Neria."

I looked ahead to where Neria was leading Bill and talking with Sten. Brenna was sitting miserably in the cart; I'd seen Morrigan talking to her earlier but at the time the witch was missing.

"Neria," I called. "Wynne'll probably want a ride."

She gave me a nod and stopped. Leliana and I left her behind pretty quickly, but only made slow progress on catching up to Alistair. Cullen was nipping at his heels to keep herding him back towards Zevran.

"Neria is angry and embarrassed," Leliana said.

"What'd I do?" I immediately winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

She thumped me gently on my armored shoulder. "Do not be. It is not your fault."

For once I totally agreed.

"Your trip to the Tower; your questions were not answered."

As much as I was tempted I didn't answer with _Well, duh._ I didn't want to take my frustration out on anybody who didn't deserve it. "No, they weren't."

"And Neria had told you they would be."

I just nodded.

"Come now! You are smart enough to figure this out!"

"Well, I just did. But why can't she just talk to me about it?"

"Because she is angry and embarrassed."

"Did we just go in a circle?"

Another thump. "And you are ill-tempered. Although that is understandable."

"Grumble, grumble."

That got a laugh. "But your good humor is there. It has been concealed for too long."

"Not that long."

"For days now. But you are in a worse mood today."

"I think you're right about that."

"Oh, I know I am."

That got a chuckle from me.

"But I think you want to be angry."

"Can you blame me?"

Leliana was quiet for a little while. "No, I can not," she finally answered.

We were quiet as we kept gaining on Alistair. "Hey," I said. "Am I wrong for wanting to punch someone over this?"

When she answered Leliana's voice was light and amused. "Not at all; you were unfairly treated. But you are free of the Tower, so please do not give in to your desire; it is not in your nature." She laughed again. "And it is dangerous to punch mages. No matter how much they deserve it."

* * *

><p>We chased Zevran away from Alistair; for a change the elf hadn't been making sexual innuendos but instead was talking about some of the contracts he'd worked. Alistair still didn't wanna hear it. Cullen <em>huffed<em> and trotted ahead, oozing wet dog smell.

But Alistair agreed with Leliana. It took a little convincing on her part, but he finally said, "I know why you're in a snit-"

"It's not a 'snit'!" I fired back.

"-but I think Leliana's right about Neria." He gave me a shoulder bump that staggered me off to the side. "Ooh, sorry. But don't be mad at Neria. I'd rather she wasn't-" He just stopped talking at stared straight ahead.

Leliana and I exchanged confused glances. "Rather she wasn't what?" I asked.

Alistair started turning red. "In a…bad…mood...for when…"

"Oh!" Leliana's voice was suddenly playfully serious. "You are going to keep your promise?"

"It's a promise, isn't it? But I'd like her to be in a good mood." He looked between the two of us. "Is that okay?"

"I think that is a splendid idea. But unless you care for Morrigan's opinion perhaps we should stop speaking." Leliana gestured up the road.

Morrigan was sheltering beneath a tree a distance ahead. Hard to spot; she was blending in pretty well. The only thing that stood out was the stone on her staff.

"Good eye," Alistair said.

"Thank you."

As we approached we could see that Morrigan looked drawn out and she was leaning heavily on her staff. Cullen was lying at her feet but hopped up as we approached and trotted back towards us. Morrigan watched us all carefully with sharp eyes as we approached, but didn't speak even as we drew abreast.

I excused myself from the others and swung off the road. I wanted to talk to Morrigan about I don't know, but like I said, I wasn't ticked at her, so maybe I could glean some kind of insight from her. "You all right?" I asked.

She gave me a slight nod. "I am well." She nodded at the others as they pulled away. "Do you not wish to continue your gossip?"

"Not really. I was hoping you'd have some ideas about what's going on with me."

"I have ideas, but 'twas not this diversion meant to answer your questions?"

"It was, but…." I quickly explained Irving's non-response, Wynne's lack of knowledge, and Neria's uncommunicativeness. "I was hoping…." I trailed off helplessly.

Morrigan smiled. "You were hoping I would have insight where the others do not." She glanced back towards the sound of the approaching cart. "Let us walk together." We started up the road, maintaining our space between those in front and behind.

I didn't know what to ask, so I didn't say anything. Morrigan walked quietly as well; probably because she was tired from scouting ahead. Alistair and Leliana were continuing their conversation, and Zevran was speaking with Sten behind us. We walked for a short, timeless while before Morrigan spoke again.

"Tell me of your experience whilst in the Tower."

I did. I told her about the safety bubble, about Thing, about the little ghost girl, about everything. Morrigan listened carefully and only interrupted to ask the same type of questions that Irving did. She smiled callously when I talked about the desire demon but seemed more genuinely interested in my dream body.

"…and then Wynne hit me with a sleep spell and I actually got some real sleep. And I guess that's it."

Morrigan was quiet again for a bit. She watched the road carefully as she walked, but was obviously lost in thought. I didn't know what to say or ask, so I stayed quiet. An emotion flicked across her face. Regret? "I…do not have an answer for you. And for that I am sorry." She sounded sincere.

I hadn't been ticked at Morrigan, and I still wasn't. "That's okay, but thanks."

Morrigan's shields went up. "'Thanks'? For what?"

"For at least giving me an honest answer. And for not jerking me around with a dishonest one."

A rare smile appeared. "You are welcome. But give me some time. I would examine my grimoire again for any related knowledge. And I would like to experience a shared dream and meet this Thing of yours."

"That's not likely to happen for a few days."

"No matter as long as it does happen. We should ensure we are asleep at the same time. And you will not make jests about us 'sleeping together'!"

I'd had my mouth open to make that exact comment. I gave her a disappointed, "Oh."

Morrigan actually laughed. 'Twas a pleasant sound.

* * *

><p><strong>later<strong>

"So," Alistair said, "you and Morrigan."

"Me and Morrigan," I answered. "Hand me that rope."

He did and kept going. "Well, the two of you spent how much time talking? And I thought you weren't interested in her."

I tied off a tent flap before answering. "I'm not, but we've come to an understanding. She teaches about the local herbs. I distract you while she makes funny faces behind your back."

"Ah. Now see, that's the Jeff and the Morrigan that I've come to know and love."

I stared pointedly at spot behind his shoulder. "Wait, you're in love with Morrigan?"

Alistair choked, turned red, and turned around in a circle before tying off another rope. "Maker! No!"

"So wait, you're in love with me? Maybe I should rethink moving in with Zevran."

"My dear Jeffrey. You've caught me at a disadvantage and now you know my deepest desire. Your eyes; it's your eyes. They're irresistible."

I batted my eyes at him. "And they see nothing but you, you great big…wall of…man. Tie that off, would ya?"

Alistair took care of the last tent corner. We knocked off the homoerotic male bonding in favor of getting both our gear and ourselves out of the rain. The group had collectively agreed to call a halt a short time before because of the slowly worsening drizzle. We found the driest spots we could, helped each other throw our tents up, and crawled in and out of the rain.

Despite the joking neither Alistair nor I had any reservations about stripping out of our gear. Metal armor rusts fast in this weather, and the damn padding gets wet and stinky just as quick. We both agree that it ranks right up there with Cullen. So out came some mostly dry rags, some metal polish, and some quiet swearing. Once that was done Alistair scrounged a snack and I decided to write.

The scritching of my pen and the rain drumming against the tent made Alistair drowsy. He decided to snooze. I was feeling it, too, but just kept writing until I'd caught up on the day's events. I'd made up to the conversation with Morrigan when I realized I was losing the light. That hit me because someone was approaching the tent.

I stuck my head out. "Neria? Hi. Everything okay?"

She looked, as Leliana had said, angry and embarrassed. But she gave me a small smile and waved her hand at the sky. "Mind if I come in?"

"Nope. Place is a mess, though." At her confusion I added, "Come on."

She stopped when she saw my tentmate. "Alistair's sleeping. Maybe we should go somewhere else."

Alistair rolled over. "Hmm? Oh. Hello."

Neria dropped her head. "I'm sorry-"

Alistair stretched. "Quite all right. I was just napping." He gave me a suspiciously questioning look that I returned along with a shrug. "What brings you over?"

Neria glanced between the two of us. She was definitely embarrassed. Not as angry, though. "I'd hoped to speak with Jeffrey…."

"Neria," I said, "don't worry about it. Irving was being an ass; that's not your fault. And I'm not really mad at you anymore."

She flushed and grimaced. "That's what I needed to speak to you about. But…." She nodded towards Alistair.

Alistair huffed. "Well, I can-"

I jumped in. "Unless it involves what happened with the desire demon you can say it in front of Alistair."

"Are you sure?" they both asked at the same time.

"Positive." I didn't want or need Alistair getting jealous of me again.

Alistair didn't look too positive. "I don't mind-"

"And neither do I. Unless Neria does."

"I don't know if…." Neria looked at me helplessly.

"Will it embarrass me? At all?"

Neria shook her head. "Me, maybe."

"Your call, then."

Neria looked back and forth. She took in my half-smile and Alistair's concern and then took a deep breath. "Irving wasn't as much of an arse as you thought." She reached into one of her deep pockets and pulled out a paper. "Oops." She shoved the paper away and dug around for another one. "Ah! I found this in my pack. It's from Irving." She unfolded the paper – two pieces, actually and handed one to me. "This one's for me, but this is for you." She gave me an embarrassed smile. "The seal was already broken, so I read a bit of it. I hope you don't mind."

I took the paper she offered. It's covered with small and precise lettering except for the signature; that's all loopy and flourished.

"My letter said- Well, Irving apologized to us both. But…read yours and see."

I glanced at Alistair. "Last chance to back out."

"Oh, no. I'm really curious about this."

I opened up the letter and started reading aloud.

_Ser Jeff,_

_I hope this shall find you well._

_I felt myself unable to speak freely with you earlier. You should know that I believe Senior Enchanter Wynne was correct when she called you a mage. I chose to tell you otherwise for fear the Templars would confine you to the Tower as maleficarum, and I believe your place is with Warden Enchanter Neria and her other companions as they combat the Blight._

_Your experiences and abilities within the Fade are unique in my experience, and though I hesitate to call you a true mage I cannot honestly say you are not such. I shall study your condition with the resources available to me and, should the opportunity arise, correspond – discretely, I assure you – with others who may have useful insight. I will prepare a report for you and provide it to you when we next meet._

_Explore your abilities but do so mindfully. You will find the Fade contains dangers for both the wary and unwary alike. I would also hope you speak with Neria regarding learning how to properly channel magic. You may also wish to approach Wynne, but do so carefully as I feel she may not be as understanding as I. Reveal what you wish to the apostate – she may have her own unique insights._

_I am still of the opinion that Thing poses no direct danger to you, but treat with it cautiously. Just because you are in no direct danger from it does not mean Thing is your friend, and I suspect it has its own agenda. Or is helping to enact someone else's. _

_As a final note you should also know that Neria made an impassioned plea in your favor – she asked me to tell you and her of what I found. However, I felt it necessary to disappoint her once again, but this time in the interest of your freedom. My former student feels you are a necessary part of her group and I agree. She has a great fondness for you and was very much hurt by my lack of forthcoming. Please convey my apologies to her and, as I asked you before, watch over her – and all your companions - in your travels._

_very respectfully,_

_Irving, First Enchanter to the Ferelden Circle of Magi_

_the 12th day of August of year 29 of the 9th Age (Dragon)_

I looked at the Wardens. They looked back at me.

"So," Alistair said. "Jeff the Apostate. I wonder how much ow!"

"Be nice," Neria said.

"That wasn't!"

"I'm the leader and I'm keeping order."

I let out a satisfied chuckle.

Alistair rubbed his arm and glared at me. "Have I ever told you you're an evil man?"

"At least twice daily."

"Is that my limit?"

"Of course not!"

"Ah-hum!" Neria caught our attention. "Jeff…. You…know what this means? Don't you?"

I sighed. "Yeah, it means I've got a lot more to write in my journal tonight."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Glad you enjoyed the quick update. I'm going back to my usual update rhythm, but expect a Turkey Day to cause a delay with Chapter 52 and/or 53._

_I know this is a slightly short chapter, but I think everything that needed to be said was._

_Milestone: 120 alerts! Thank you__**,**_** omnigel**!

**Pegueng: **_H.R. Giger is the Swiss artist who designed the eponymous Alien and does a lot of other similar work. He goes for creepy and outworldly rather than pure scary and does a pretty good job of it. For those wondering Thing is actually based on an extremely vivid and frightening (at the time) nightmare I had many years ago, and I can still picture him if I try. Don't worry; he doesn't give me nightmares anymore. Either I'm too jaded or Thing's a pretty cool guy IRL._

**Jasper: **_Thanks so much for the kind words. I'm really happy that you (and everybody else who's reading) are enjoying the story and appreciate the feedback._

**SnowHelm:** _Again, glad you're enjoying the story as well. I really like writing dialogue; somehow it just comes fairly naturally. I'm working on my prose; as Jeff told Neria writing reports tends to make one get the facts down clean and simple without much embellishment. Oh, and thanks again for all the reviews!_

**Guest:** _SPOILER: My headcanon on Loghain's actions at Ostagar tell me that after waiting for too long he sent scouts out to see what was going on. The scouts would have returned with the word of Cailen's army being massacred and Loghain would be forced to decide whether or not to attack. But he was running far behind schedule and needed to develop a new course of action. He was also already suspicious of the Wardens, so when the beacon was finally lit Loghain thought the Wardens talked Cailen into charging off the line, and that they were trying to finish the job by luring him in as well.. It's not the most logical train of thought, but from Loghain's not-quite-paranoid perspective it would make sense._


	52. Pushing Through

**13 August (day 57)**

**Morning**

Alistair looked nervous. "I'm beginning to think this is a bad idea. Are you sure you want to do this?"

I shook my head emphatically. "Absolutely not. But-"

"Listen: if I do this and something bad happens and Neria ends up mad at me I'll-" He stopped and frowned at me. "I don't know what I'll do or what'll happen, but I'm sure Neria will blame me for it."

"Want me to sign something saying this was my idea?"

The frown deepened. "No."

"Well, let's see what happens." I sat down and leaned against a convenient tree. "Hit me."

Alistair scowled, but raised his right hand into a clenched fist. The muscles in his forearm tensed as his hand tightened. Alistair held the fist and his bicep began to flex. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and raised his left fist. Sweat popped on his brow and his shoulders hunched all the way into his neck. "Ah!" Alistair released the smite.

The soundless, pressureless wave exploded outwards exponentially harder than any I'd seen before. But when it washed over me I felt nothing at all. I felt completely fine. I didn't feel anything in my body. Nothing happened in my head. No dizziness, no headache, no tickle, no pain, no flash of the Fade. The only thing I felt was concern for Alistair. He had sweat running down his head and his face was as white as this paper.

"Uhhhhhhh…." Alistair started wobbling about.

I jumped up and caught him before he could go crashing down. "Little help over here!"

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

"You know," Alistair said, "I could get used to this." His color and humor were both back. They'd been back for a while. That didn't mean he had to get out of the cart, but it did mean he got to enjoy the ride a lot more than I enjoyed the walk.

"I hope you learned-" Wynne gave me a pointed look from her seat. "Both of you have learned something from this."

"Well," Alistair said, "Jeff's not a mage."

"We already knew that."

"And Templars abilities come at a price," I added.

Neria's hand impacted the back of my head. "We knew that, too."

Alistair chuckled. "So we didn't learn anything?"

"I learned you're heavier than you look." The follow-on Gibbs' slap was totally worth it.

Alistair laughed again.

"That's it," Neria snapped. "You! Out of the cart!"

Alistair gave a moan of distress. "Oh, I don't know. I'm still feeling a little dizzy, and my…knees…feel…." He dropped his head and complied with Neria's order.

Brenna was watching with a ghost of a smile from the cart's seat. "You'll be fine, m'lord Warden." She whispered something to Wynne, who in turn whispered back. Brenna gave her a quick smile.

Alistair bumped me. "I can also try draining-" He dodged Neria's staff. "-your lack of mana."

Wynne shook her head at us. "Boys."

"Hey!" I called. "You're here. That means I don't have to be the mature adult anymore."

Neria whacked me with her staff.

* * *

><p>We reached Calenhad without incident. In Calenhad, however, we dropped off Brenna. Neria spoke quietly to the woman as she tried to give her a pouch of coins. Brenna tried to beg off but Neria was insistent. The two pushed the pouch back and forth for a moment but something Neria said made Brenna finally give in. She wasn't crying, but certainly looked sad. I would be, too, if my kid got taken away from me like that. I'm honestly surprised she's not angrier than she is. At least if she is angry she's doing a good job of hiding it. But we're setting her and Keenan up better and hopefully safer than they would be in Kirkwall and they're reasonably close to each other. Wynne says visitors aren't usually allowed at the Tower, but maybe things can change once this is all over. Anyway….<p>

Neria kept speaking with Brenna, hugged the woman, and finished by giving what looked like an earnest promise to her. And then she came back over to us. "Let's go." A bit later on Neria told me what she'd said to make Brenna take the money. "Take it and use it to take care of yourself for Keenan's sake. He'll be heartbroken if something happens to you."

"Oh, and Jeffrey?" Neria continued. "She's not mad at us. She was afraid this would happen, but was always expecting the Templars to find them."

That's something, I guess, but

I don't know. Sigh.

* * *

><p>Leaving Calenhad wasn't without incident.<p>

A mix of thugs, soldiers, and the desperate barred our way out of town. Maybe twenty or so total. Some were armed and armored; most were just carrying knives or clubs. This was a more dangerous group than the ones we'd bluffed in Lothering; each one of them seemed well-enough acquainted with violence to follow through with whatever they'd planned to do.

"Here now!" The leader pointed at Alistair. "You're a Grey Warden! And so's she!" He pointed at Morrigan, who snickered evilly. "There's a bounty we're keen to collect!"

But then, there's a reason the folks I'm hanging with are the heroes. Alistair, Sten, and I already had swords out; Alistair even managed to swing his shield off his back. Zevran moved off the street before the shouting even started. Leliana's bow was strung. The mages were channeling power.

Except for Neria. "Hey!" she yelled. "I'm the Grey Warden, not her!"

"Neria," Leliana said, "this is not the time to be jealous over a bounty."

"Jeff-" Alistair started to say quietly. He didn't get to finish.

"You're right," Neria said.

A fireball, a small one, hissed past Alistair and struck the leader with a small explosion. He went down from the impact as flames exploded around him. The burst hit a couple of others who started yelling and beating at their burning clothes, but the leader didn't even scream. A couple of wiser souls at the back of the crowd turned to run, but the dozen plus still up manned up.

"Take the mages!" someone yelled from the crowd.

It didn't help. Someone else went down with a gurgle caused by Leliana's arrow. Sten leaped forward with a roar, Alistair let out his own cry, and I charged in between the two of them. Half the crowd was already on the ground, and the mages backed us up with precision casting at point targets.

The fellow right in front of me bugged his eyes out as I rushed him. He swung a sword frantically; I parried it cleanly. I followed up by punching the guy with my left hand; the dagger's pommel helped put him on the ground. I didn't even slow down. I hit the next guy in front of me with my sword; I'm pretty sure it wasn't fatal, but he yelled and went down. There was another guy behind him with an axe, but he was back peddling with pure fear on his face.

I surged forward and knocked the guy down. Then I kicked him. "Get up and run, dumbass!"

Dumbass wasn't so dumb after all. He dropped his axe, scrambled backwards, then got his feet under him and sprinted away. Cullen wasn't too far after him, but I was hoping it was me Dumbass was scared of. He was faster than Cullen, though, although I'm not sure the dog was really trying. I turned around to see what else needed to be done. Not much. Sten had taken a couple of guys down in his own special way; I purposely averted my eyes from that. Alistair's victims were less messy, but at least one was just as dead. There were about half a dozen guys just lying peacefully on the ground; all were the victims of a sleep spell. Zevran was walking casually out of an alley with bloody knives.

"Stupid sodding bastards!" I heard Neria say as Cullen came galumphing back with a huge doggie grin.

"Is anyone hurt?" Wynne called.

"I am," someone called from the ground. One of the bad guys.

"She meant us," Alistair said and kicked the guy.

"I am well," Sten said.

The rest of us chimed in; no injuries. Despite hitting that one guy my sword was clean. Neria got us moving again. We didn't bother searching the bodies.

Two minutes later we came across a second obstacle: a handful of town guards, a Templar, and a couple of survivors from the attack on us. (Dumbass wasn't among them.) "That's them!" one of the survivors said.

The guard leader wasn't a dumbass. His brain was definitely thinking about stopping us, but it couldn't quite convince his body doing so was a good idea. "Er…." He fumbled at his sword but didn't draw.

We stopped as a group. One of the survivors wised up and took off.

"You might want to think carefully about this," Alistair said. His tone was dangerously jovial.

The Templar drew himself up. "You would not-"

"Try us," I said.

"We would," Morrigan added.

"Oh, most certainly," Zevran said.

"I will ask the Maker for forgiveness." Leliana's arrow scraped as she drew her bow.

"Leliana!" Wynne said.

"Everyone hold!" Neria called. "Guardsman: we are leaving the town. Step aside."

"You will not!" snapped the Templar. "These are apostates and-"

"They're not worth getting killed over," Alistair said.

"Not that you could," Sten added. "Ask that individual." He pointed with his sword.

The guards all glanced at the survivor.

"There were what? Twenty of you?" I said loudly. "And we didn't even break a sweat."

The lead guard looked anxiously at us, ran the numbers, and came to the obvious conclusion. "Sorry to trouble you folks."

"No!" The Templar turned on the guard leader, but I heard a huff from one of the mages, and the fellow just collapsed.

The guards gave us a panicked look.

"Don't worry; he'll be fine," Wynne said. "He's just sleeping."

The guards relaxed.

"Let's be off," Alistair suggested.

"A moment," Neria said. "Alistair, come here." She walked over to the lead guard and spoke quietly to him while Alistair stood menacingly behind her. The man shook his head a couple of times, then nodded stiffly and scaredly, then took the coin Neria offered him. She spun around and jerked her head to the west. "Everything's okay. Let's go!"

Alistair and I drifted to the back of the group just in case somebody decided following us was a better idea than just letting us go. I was wondering about what Neria had said to the guard so I asked.

"She was worried that the guards might harass Brenna. She said she'd consider it a personal favor if that guard looked out for her. Then she gave the fellow a sovereign and told him to buy his men a round of drinks. What's that about, anyway?"

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

No more problems leaving Calenhad and no problems on the road. Except in my head. About Calenhad, of course. Probably half of our attackers managed to get away without any injuries, but, again, I didn't kill anybody. Although, frankly, I'm glad I didn't hurt Dumbass; maybe he'll learn something from the experience. The bigger problem is we're heading to Orzammar and when we get there we'll probably have to clear out Dust Town. That means taking down sentients. I've gotta get right with it.

Sten's right: I need to find my center again.

* * *

><p>Minor problem at camp.<p>

Neria caught up with me while I was helping with dinner. "Have you decided what we're going to tell Wynne about you?"

I kept chopping veggies for the stew pot. "No. But Irving was right about me pulling people – well, mages into my dreams. It'll happen with her eventually and we'll need to at least explain that."

Leliana drifted over. She knows the basics of the situation, but I hadn't told her about Irving's letter. "Explain what to Wynne?"

Neria and I locked eyes for a second then I shrugged. "Might as well. Irving slipped Neria a letter for me. He says I'm a mage, but…." I trailed off as I thought about all the mage stuff I can't do.

Leliana smiled knowingly. "So you did receive an answer! That explains why your mood has been so good today."

Neria started as Cullen bumped her in the leg. She reached down and thumped the dog on his big old bucket head. "But," Neria added, "Irving wants me to teach him how to cast spells, not just dream in the Fade."

"Can you do that?"

I passed her a pile of veggies. "I don't know. Guess we'll find out."

Leliana took the veggies as she thought. "But nobody has told Wynne of this. Do you not trust her?"

Neria looked thoughtful. "I do, but…she's…beholden to the Chantry and the Circle, and she might turn him in as an apostate and maleficarum."

Leliana dumped the veggies into the pot. It was her turn to look thoughtful. "Yet she has not done so with Morrigan."

I looked to Neria. "That's a very good point."

Neria nodded as she gently wrassled with her dog. "And I do trust Wynne. And so does Morrigan."

"I think we all do." I looked to Leliana for confirmation.

"Oh, most certainly."

Neria took that in while we futzed with dinner a bit more. "But why did Irving say what he did about Wynne?"

I had to shake my head and shrug at that. "I don't know."

Leliana spoke from where she was stirring the stew. "He plays the game. He knows Wynne believes in the Circle and the Chantry so he snuck Jeffrey back out of the Tower. He also knows Blight is the true threat to us all, and that Wynne knows that as well. So no matter the talents Jeffrey reveals now Wynne will not jeopardize his freedom. Not without strong cause. And when she is next able to turn him over to the Chantry she will have seen his value against the Blight."

"Ah…." I was trying to think of a polite way to say Leliana's logic was far from sound.

Neria stopped messing with Cullen and jumped in before I could continue. "Would the Chantry risk us not being able to fight the Blight?"

"The Chantry has offered rewards for both Morrigan and Jeffrey – your known companions - and did they not forbid mages to send a signal at Ostagar?" A cloud passed over Leliana's face. "No. The Chantry fears the known danger of mages over the unknown danger of the Blight. There are good and strong and wise people within the Chantry, but they are merely salted among the foolish and ignorant." She nodded to Neria. "And yes, the cruel. Yet Wynne is good and strong, and she wisely understands the danger of the Blight. She simply does not yet recognize Jeffrey's role in combating it."

Sigh. "I don't think I recognize my role."

Leliana gave me a lovely smile that shot chicken skin all the way down my back. "Still the reluctant hero."

"'Lost.' I thought we agreed on that."

"I did not agree. Yet you are still a hero. And Wynne will recognize this."

I grumbled at her under my breath.

Neria looked unconvinced. "Are you sure about this?"

Leliana nodded.

Neria looked a little bit more satisfied, but suddenly also frustrated. "Very well. Jeffrey: we'll talk to Wynne about this as soon as we can. But could you please go keep Sten from killing Zevran?"

Leliana and I turned the direction Neria was looking. Zevran was standing a carefully measured distance from the giant and giving the big guy a cheesy grin. Even from where we were sitting I could see Sten's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring.

"On it."

* * *

><p><strong>14 August (day 58), morning<strong>

"You're a lucky man. Elf. Whatever." Shirtless Alistair was stuffing clothing into his pack.

"I never cease to be amazed by my good fortune. Like right now." Zevran was carefully evaluating Alistair's arms and back.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," I said, "he's lucky Neria happened to spot him pissing off Sten in time to have me intervene." I gave Zevran a double-evil eye. "And that I was able to calm Sten down before he turned you into little chunky bits."

Alistair let out a bark of laughter. "I'll have to remember that."

"What? Turning him into little chunky bits?"

Zevran gave me an evil eye. "I don't know if it is a good thing or a bad thing that the two of you have reconciliato."

Alistair looked my way. "Good thing?"

I nodded. "Neria thinks so."

"Si, but I was hoping to win more coins during your next fight."

Alistair went back to packing. "Who were you betting on?"

"Oh, both of you, of course."

"Oh, of course."

"Si, mio amico. Main bets, side bets; I won more than I lost. I do have a keen eye for wagers, you know."

"I thought your eye was for the ladies."

Zevran caught my eye and gave me a wink. "Not just the ladies."

I frowned at the elf. "You know, that's what nearly got you killed last night."

"I was in no danger-"

Alistair fell on his butt and started laughing. "Jeff, what was that you said about chunky bits?"

"That Sten wouldn't leave enough of Zevran to fill the stew pot?"

"That sounds right."

Zevran hmmphed. "I should have known I would find no sympatia here. Good day." He executed a crisp about-face and strode away.

"Stay away from Sten!" Alistair called.

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

We stopped early again today because of weather. Another afternoon rain storm rolled in and we preferred to be warm and dry, even at the expense of losing some time. But then Orzammar's not going anywhere.

Tents got set, a small and sheltered fire started, and, as a group, we sat down and shared a quiet and welcome hot meal. There wasn't much talking but there really wasn't much to say. The road had been quiet, nobody was bickering, and even the rain seemed friendly by letting up while we ate. Very nice. Very peaceful. We finished eating, sorted out guard duty, cleaned up the dishes, and retired to our respective tents.

Well, some of us did. Neria pulled me aside before I could make it back to the hooch. Alistair gave her a look then glanced at me. I'm not the best at reading faces, but I saw something on his that I didn't like.

I dived in before something could become _something_. "I think we're going to talk to Wynne." I looked to Neria for confirmation.

She gave Alistair a reassuring smile and patted him on the arm. "You know what about."

The something on Alistair's face faded to nothing. "Oh. Er…all right. Uhm, what about the card game?"

I'm learning to play Diamondback. Not well. But I'm on par with Alistair. "I'll join you when we're done." I gave him a grin. "Try not to lose your shirt."

Alistair started to blush. Neria giggled. Alistair blushed some more.

"See you in a few," I said and we went to find Wynne.

Wynne was, as expected, seated in her tent with a book and a glass (a real glass!) of wine. She invited Neria in cordially, but when she saw me Wynne's voice became chilly. "Do I need to guess why you're here, or had you two planned to tell me?"

I crawled into the tent behind Neria. The three of us was a pretty tight fit.

"Wynne, please…." Neria said. There was a touch of reproach in her voice.

The older mage took me in with knowing eyes and inclined her head to Neria. "I'm sorry. Go ahead."

Neria got right to the point. "Irving told us – in a letter – that Jeffrey's a mage."

Wynne nodded and frowned. "I thought as much. Irving and I argued about your abilities, but in the end it was his decision." She sounded a little bitter, I guess. "It was Irving who reported your…mundaneness to Greagoir. Over my objections. But he is the First Enchanter, and that's his prerogative."

"But if Jeffrey's a mage…?"

I knew what questions I wanted to ask. "But what about all the tests? All the smites I was at ground zero for? Why do I only dream? Why can't I cast spells?" I gave Wynne a twisted frown. "I'd much rather be in the back with you than taking beat downs on the line with Alistair."

That brought a smile to her face but she quickly returned to seriousness. "It's unheard of for mage powers to lie dormant all the way to adulthood. But your talents should eventually manifest themselves."

"And how will that happen?"

"Well, young children usually discover their abilities by accident."

"That's what happened to me." Neria drew her knees up to her chin. She had a distant look. "It was a hot summer and Papa was sick. I made ice water for him." Her gaze returned to me. "And then the Templars came for me."

Wynne nodded and smiled. "I remember when you and Solona arrived. That was a very hot summer." She became businesslike again. "For older children it usually takes a traumatic or an intense experience to release their power."

I shook my head. "I've had my share of traumatic experiences but dreaming is all I do." If arriving here didn't set me off then I don't know what could. Then again, arriving here is (or at least seems to be) what triggered my Fade connection. Makes sense, especially considering it took some time for the Fade dreaming to sort itself out. The question popped up again. "So why is that it?"

"I don't know." Neria still looked a touch wistful. "But maybe-"

"Warden." Sten's voice was quiet, flat, and insistent. "I would speak with you."

"Oh, Sten, right now?"

"Yes."

The wistfulness was replaced by frustration. But Wynne and I gave Neria an okay, so she crawled out of the tent and spoke quietly with Sten as they walked away.

I looked back to Wynne. "So now what?"

"Meditate."

"What? Right now?"

"Right now."

"Why?"

"I'd like to examine your connection to the Fade again." Wynne suddenly looked as if she'd had a 'ding' moment. She reached into her robes. "But first drink this." Wynne held out a vial with blue liquid in it.

"Mana potion?"

Wynne raised an eyebrow at that. "A lyrium draught, but yes, it can restore mana. But at the least it-"

I reached out and took the vial. "It should help intensify my connection to the Fade?" I examined the liquid. It was the blue of a clear sky, but I couldn't see through it. And I found myself fascinated with the twinkling of tiny stars deep within its depths. "But why do this now?"

"No time like the present."

I lowered the vial and considered my options. I didn't really disagree with what Wynne was saying, but I didn't agree with her either. I'd already been examined by our trio, then by Irving, then by Wynne and Irving, and finally by Irving and Neria. Nobody had any real answers for me, and not through lack of trying. And now Wynne wanted to short circuit my Fade connection (if that's even the right analogy). Except I couldn't articulate all that. I just sat there and stared at Wynne while I tried to think of something to say.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. It just…doesn't feel right doing this right now."

"I can understand that you're frightened, but-"

"I'm not frightened, I'm frustrated."

"You were frightened back in the Tower."

"Because of the distinctly non-zero possibility that I might have ended up Tranquiled."

"Neria wouldn't have let that happen. I wouldn't have, either."

"Really?"

A nod and a sip of wine. "Really. That would have been a gross overreaction."

"That's something the Chanty's known for."

Wynne shifted, uncomfortably it seemed, and took another sip. "I won't deny that, but your safety is something we all agreed on."

I gave her a dot-dot-dot stare. Then I took a couple of deep, slow breaths. "You know, you could've told me that a lot earlier." I carefully handed Wynne back the potion. "We'll do this another time." I crawled out of the tent, found a quiet and kinda dry spot under a tree, and tried to meditate, but I was too pissed off.

* * *

><p><strong>late evening<strong>

Alistair came up to relieve me from guard duty. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Sorry I snapped at you earlier."

"You already apologized. Don't worry about it."

"I still feel bad about it. You looked like I'd-" I had to think about that for a second.

Alistair rescued me. "Actually thrown my cheese in the lake?"

"Okay, I was serious about that. Well, kinda." The cheese isn't really stinky, but our tent smells vaguely of spoiled dairy. And at least Alistair's rationing it to a couple slices a day.

Alistair laughed softly. "Good thing you didn't; Neria would send you in after it."

"And then she'd make me go back to Denerim to get you a new one."

"I think Orlais's closer."

"It might be."

He gave me a gentle thump on the back. The armor clanked where we made contact. "Go get some sleep."

"I'll try. Good night."

And that's the point of this. I've been thinking about Orzammar. There's nothing I can think of that'll resolve the situation there that doesn't involve us going into the Deep Roads. We'll end up doing the dirty work for both Bhelen and Harrowmont, but that won't matter one bit. We'll end up underground for however long it takes. The smart thing for me to do would be to hit the road as soon as possible and hunker down in a safe corner of the world. And figure out what's going on with my head, and maybe figure out a way home.

Or I can just man up, take things head on, and deal with whatever Fate's got in store for me. Sigh. I hope Leliana's awake; I really need a pep talk right now.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Although I've been using the DA wiki for research purposes I'd recommend you check out the Warden's Vigil Wiki. It's designed as an aid for the DA roleplaying community, but it's a good source of info and ideas that just don't appear in the game._

_Milestone: 90+ faves. Thanks to_ **annethepyro, Kenshiro2008,** _and_ **unisole** _for getting me there! And 125+ alerts; shout-outs (and virtual cookies) to_ **AkaiKurai** _and_ **Robofin117**! _And 200+ reviews! I'm not sure who put me over the top, but thanks to everybody, especially those mentioned below!_

**SnowHelm:** _Again, thanks for the epic read, multiple reviews, and all the praise._

**Gabriel Alessandro:** _Jeff's using an M16A1. It's the rifle he 'grew up with' while on active duty. Plus it's got full auto versus the burst mode of the A2._

**Macman6453:** _There was no pun intended. In fact, I didn't even realize it was a **Hitman** reference until I saw an article about it. And, as always, I appreciate the kind words._

**annethepyro:** _Jeff's making a best guess regarding the spelling of non-Ferelden words. Some guesses are better than others. And thanks for adding MoN to your community!_

**InsidiousAgent:** _Hope this chapter answered some questions for you! POSSIBLE SPOILER: WRT Morrigan we all know she has her own goals. I think it would take a pretty charismatic individual to divert her from those._

**FenZev:** _MREs are useful, and not just for the food._

**Reader151: **_Thanks for the review and thank you for the compliments. As to your questions HERE BE SPOILERS: DLC and other content is planned, although DA2 may be out of the scope of the fic, but we'll see. Morrigan would definitely notice a page ripped from the book, but who would she blame it on?_


	53. Unforced Errors

**15 August (day 59), morning**

Alistair looked up as I approached the tent. He had a combination of 'good morning' and 'where were you?' and 'what did I do?' on his face.

"Don't worry," I said, "I'm not mad at you."

Relief washed over his face. It was replaced with curiosity.

"I slept in Leliana's tent."

Curiosity doubled down and brought surprise along for the ride.

I spoke slowly and clearly. "We just talked. And shared some brandy."

Curiosity stayed in place. Surprise ducked out and was replaced with 'say no more!'

"And then I got some very badly needed sleep."

I didn't think Alistair was capable of it, but I'm positive I saw some lechery bubble into his grin.

"And all I did was sleep. There's nothing going on with us."

Lechery stepped off center in favor of skepticism.

"Fine. Believe what you want. Let's get packed up."

Lechery disappeared. Skepticism stayed. Amusement showed up.

"Butthead."

* * *

><p><strong>Mid-morning<strong>

"I do not understand." Sten had the slightest of tilts to his head. For him, at least, I'd call it quizzical with a touch of confusion.

"Don't understand what?"

"The bard. She was not chosen for you. And yet-"

Oy. "No. Nothing happened. We just talked, drank a little, and I crashed out – fell asleep – and _nothing happened._"

Sten seemed to take my words at face value. "If you say."

"I do, but- What do you mean she wasn't chosen?"

Sten's face relaxed into his neutral 'you should know this' mode. "Qunari have their mates chosen for them by the tamasran. We may express a preference-" He tilted his head again. "I have erred. Those in your society simply choose their mates based on-"

I felt my face heating up. "We didn't mate!"

"I did not mean to imply you did. However, your behavior towards the bard seem to indicate you are considering her for mating. I believe-"

"Stop. Right. There."

"There is no need to be embarrassed. The bard is a healthy human female with superior-"

"Sten-"

"-hand-eye coordination and musical talents. You have chosen wisely."

I narrowed my eyes. "And I suppose my current…mating status has nothing to do with this?"

Sten nodded sagely. "You are correct. And you are acting logically. Should you be unable to return to your home you have…." He stopped to consider something for a moment. "'Sown the oats.' I believe that is-"

"Okay! Enough! You know, I'd expect this sort of thing from Zevran, but you…?" I waved at the front of group where Alistair was walking. "I'm going up there. At least I can fire back at Alistair."

Sten bowed his head to me. No trace of sarcasm, irony, or any other thing was there. The bastard. "Another time then."

* * *

><p><strong>noon<strong>

I don't know what's worse: having Sten give me the talk or having Alistair waggle his eyebrows at me every time I get close to him. At least I've managed to dodge Zevran.

Oy.

Leliana has the graciousness to at least look a little embarrassed by the attention we're getting. And at least she and Neria aren't whispering and giggling about me, although Neria is enjoying this more than I'd like. Should have known

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

Sorry about that. Here's what happened:

Just after I started writing I saw a raven swoop into some nearby trees. A few seconds later Morrigan came jogging out, concern on her face.

"There are soldiers approaching. A score and more, and they are no more than a mile distant." Morrigan pointed up the road in the direction we're heading.

That got our attention. Lunch was forgotten. Naps were cut short. Everybody scrambled to check their gear. The teasing over Leliana stopped.

"Have we been seen?" Zevran asked.

"I do not know, but I think not. And we have but a short time before they will." Morrigan took a deep drink from a water skin.

"They are soldiers?" Sten asked. "Are you certain?"

"I am certain they are no rabble like those we faced in that town."

"That's good enough for me," I said. "Plan?"

Heads went on to swivels. When the swiveling stopped it seemed like a lot the heads were looking at me. I swiveled one last time hoping to find Neria; she was already looking at me.

Fine. "Twenty soldiers. Not the same as twenty stupid thugs trying to collect a bounty."

Neria's eyes went wide. "Right! Off the road! Now!"

It only took us a couple of minutes. We led Bill and helped push the cart into the trees, policed up our gear, and concealed ourselves fairly well about fifty yards off the road. Alistair and I donned our leggings and grabbed our shields. Weapons were out and ready and the mages had tapped their mana. But the plan was to stay in place and let the troops go by. Even Sten thought that course of action was 'prudent.'

But, as you can probably guess, the plan didn't survive first contact.

I'll give credit to the troops: they were experienced and smart and well-led. Swordsmen at the front and flanks protected a handful of archers in the center. No mounts except for a pack horse, so they were all carrying loaded packs. The probable leader was near the front with his second (who appeared to be a senior NCO). Their general attitude was pretty relaxed; they obviously hadn't seen any real action anytime recently and probably weren't expecting any. That was fine by me.

But that old NCO did his job. He'd come up to the spot where we'd left the road and went a few yards further. Then his head started swiveling as he scanned the roadbed. He said something to the leader and the pair stopped to take a look around. They didn't call a halt; the rest of the platoon kept moving.

"That's right. Nothing to see here," I subvocalized. "Just keep walking."

I could barely hear myself, but Wynne gently bumped me with her elbow. I kept my eyes on the troops.

The leaders backtracked to where we'd left the road and that's when things started going TU. We'd done what we could to conceal our tracks but anyone who was actually paying attention wouldn't have a problem seeing them. And these guys were paying attention. A shouted command caused the troops to stop marching and form up facing us. Two squads of eight swordsmen with small shields, a third squad of archers, and the leaders.

I didn't move but did whisper again. "Archers first."

Wynne's reply floated away on the breeze.

"Here now! You in the woods!" The leader's voice was easy to hear. "Come out now and you'll be treated fairly. We're not thieves or bandits; we're soldiers in the King's army."

If we'd thought about it we might have been able to pass a couple of us off as peddlers but as it was we were completely geared up for a fight. We stayed down and silent.

"No?" The leader turned back to his troops and gave another order. The archers stepped forward with loaded bows. "Last chance!"

"Wait!" Neria's shout made me jump. Somebody hissed at her but she stood up and made her way out of cover. "Here I am!"

There was a ripple of laughter from the troops when they saw Neria, but the NCO stayed focused. He spoke firmly but clearly and the leader suddenly spun around. The NCO's answer was easy to read even if I couldn't hear it. _Yes, sir!_

The leader spoke and the archers drew. Neria stopped where she was. The leader shouted again. "Warden! You will surrender. And your companions will-"

Everything went worse at once. Wynne stood and started casting. Sten let out a roar and broke cover. The leader shut up when Leliana's arrow popped out of his chest. I swore and was up and moving and hoping I could cover Neria. She was standing, alone in the field, trying to pull a fireball out of her ass.

"Archers!" the NCO shouted. "Loose at the mage!"

"Ah!" she yelled and finally tried to get out of danger.

Arrows came our way as a ball of energy went the other. Neria cried out painfully but I couldn't see how bad she was hurt. Another of Leliana's arrows hissed away as the archers reloaded and soldiers readied themselves. But Neria's weaker-than-usual fireball did its job: the entire platoon was staggered when the plasma burst on the shield wall. That gave us an extra few precious seconds before the archers could shoot again.

Forty yards isn't a lot to cover in PT gear and running shoes, but try it in armor while you're carrying a sword and a barn door of a shield. The extra weight made me feel like every step was in slow motion. I heard another shout from the NCO and at least one arrow came my way. It hit my shield and the impact jarred me, but I didn't slow down. I was between Neria and the bad guys and with that squad of archers that put me right in the kill zone. The quicker I got out of it the more likely I was to live. But that meant closing for melee with at least eight to one odds against us. But I dug in anyway, put on one last burst of speed, and aimed for the weak spot Sten had left me from his charge. A couple soldiers there saw me coming and set themselves with shields up and swords back. I head-faked at the last instant and aimed for the guy on the left.

"My life for A-!" The impact cut the battle cry short. Something hit my shield and something else hit my armor. The guy I'd run into went sprawling backwards. I took advantage of being at a dead stop to deliver a backhand slash at the bad guy standing next to me. My blade didn't cut through his mail but he yelled in pain and dropped his sword. Good enough; I stepped forward and threw a hard right elbow into his face. That put him down.

I was suddenly face-to-face with a bloody-muzzled, golden-eyed wolf. Morrigan and I recognized each other, though, and we both turned to our respective rights. Morrigan leapt away snarling, and I lunged, overextended, but cleanly stabbed one of the three soldiers Alistair was swinging furiously at. The blade went through his mail and into his back with a quiet screech of metal-on-metal. There was a human screech as I pulled the blade back out. I stepped forward and kicked the fellow's feet from under him.

His companions didn't notice him drop but Alistair did. My tent-mate suddenly stepped back; I stepped forward and shoved and tripped his opponents. They staggered into Alistair who made short, bloody work of one guy while clocking the second with his shield. "There!" he yelled at me. He had blood dripping down his head; I couldn't tell if it was his, but Alistair seemed okay enough.

I spun around to see where I was needed. I wasn't going anywhere near Sten's blender; that only left a couple of archers and one of the swordsmen as immediate threats. The archers were defending themselves with short swords, and the swordsman was standing with empty hands in the air. When he saw me eyeing him he stammered, "Exch-ch-change!"

I wasn't ready to accept a surrender, but I didn't see him as a threat, either. I charged past him and blindsided an archer. She fell into her companion and landed between him and Zevran. Her companion shouted something and spun towards me. "You killed her!" He came at me with his sword but I blocked the shot.

I was face-to-face with him and trying to figure out how to hurt him when his eyes rolled up. Zevran pulled the fellow off me and his long knife out of the guy's back. His eyes were bright and he fired something out in Antivan. I only caught, "Mio amico!"

"I'm okay! Who needs help?"

We both looked around for an instant, panting. Zevran spoke first.

"Nobody. It is over. Now do not move."

"What?"

Zevran reached out and yanked an arrow from my belly plate. The tip was clean.

"You are fortunata, my friend."

"I agree." And then I threw up.

* * *

><p>I didn't get to see her before Wynne healed her, but Neria was mess when she finally wobbled over to the aftermath of the melee. I had heard her scream at one point; that was the arrow in her chest being yanked out. She passed out after that and Wynne and Leliana were able to get a second arrow out of her leg without too much difficulty. She'd lost a lot of blood but Wynne's magic along with a healing potion did a lot to restore her, and she was still tired and weak.<p>

But she was _pissed_. Alistair was going to give her a hug but scrambled out of the way as she tottered her way to me and the NCO. Cullen was trying to herd her away from us but wasn't having any luck. He was limping himself; he'd received a nasty slash from one of the arrows aimed at Neria.

The NCO: his name's Riley. He's been a soldier for decades and knew exactly when his fight had gone bad. He'd done the right thing by his troops and immediately tried to surrender those who were still standing. He saved about half of them, although half of those were wounded in some way. He's not a bad guy, at least not in the traditional sense. He's a soldier and he's doing the job he know the best he can. Unfortunately, he's on the side that'll get a lot of people killed if it gets its way, but Riley doesn't know that. Anyway…

He was looking sadly at the platoon leader's body. "Ser Corbus. Wasn't a bad sort for a bann's son. Just needed to learn his way. Won't get that chance now."

That's when I saw Neria coming over. "Well, I feel the same way about her."

Riley sighed. "She's the Grey Warden Loghain wants us to bring in. We knew she was a mage, but…."

"You didn't know we had more mages with us?"

"Maker's breath, no! But you're a sodding company of hurt; you know that?"

I looked around at my companions. "Band of misfits is more like it."

Riley sighed again. "Misfits, heroes. Doesn't matter. We underestimated you and paid the price." He nodded at Neria as she got close. "If your Warden here hadn't been so stupid as to come out-"

"Don't call me stup-!" Neria tried to yell but her voice cracked. It cracked again as she kept yelling. "Loghain can go sod off and you can, too! We didn't do anything to hey!"

She'd taken a swing at Riley, who'd wisely just dodged the punch. I ended up grabbing Neria in an awkward hug and keeping her away from him. It wasn't hard; she was running on spit and adrenaline and had zero strength. I couldn't even feel her struggling against me. Cullen was at my legs, whining urgently but not doing anything to interfere. Guess he knew I was trying to help.

Riley bowed. "Ser Warden, you have bested us and-"

"I don't sodding care!"

"Neria!" I hissed. "It's over!"

"It's over when I say it is!"

I nodded to Riley. "If you'll excuse me…."

"I understand."

I dragged the ineffectually flailing Neria away from Riley and back towards Wynne. Alistair (whose head wound was both messy and bad) took my place with Riley.

"Jeff! Let me go!" She tried kicking me but I had the full kit on.

"No. Calm down, please."

"Jeffrey, they tried to kill us!"

"I know, and they've surrendered."

"They nearly killed me!"

"I know, but you're okay now."

"No! I'm not! I'm mad!" And scared, too, if the crying was any indication.

"That's okay, and you are, too." It's really hard to hug someone when you're wearing plate armor but I tried. I looked around for Wynne but she'd disappeared, so I caught Morrigan's eye.

The witch sauntered over with what I'm pretty sure was genuine concern on her face. "I can do a little but I am no healer."

_Sleep?_ I mouthed.

"That I can do."

Neria suddenly realized what was going on. "Wait, what?"

Morrigan's hand caught Neria's head before she could react further.

Neria tried to fight but slumped in my arms. "You fu'ing basssss-"

* * *

><p>Zevran leaned in and spoke quietly to me. "So, mio amico. You and our bella rosa. How was your evening in her tent?"<p>

"Is this really the right time for this?" I was feeling nauseous again. Zevran and I were watching Riley and his troops clean up the tiny battlefield. We were collecting weapons from the living and the dead and stacking them off to the side.

"Is there a better time?"

"Breakfast this morning. Dinner tonight maybe. Tomorrow definitely."

"Si, but we have time to spare right now."

I gave the little guy an evil eye. "Seems to me we're a bit busy."

Zevran winced as his armor rubbed a still-tender wound. "Si [Antivan phrase], but an unpleasant task may be made less so, no?"

I suddenly realized what he was doing. The dude's alright in his own warped way. "Yeah, a distraction would be nice."

Zevran grinned wickedly. "Well, then. Primo: let me comment on how quiet you were. This is not a bad thing, but if you are having trouble helping the lady along may I suggest…."

* * *

><p>Lot of writing up there. Leliana did a lot herself, and then, as usual, we compared notes. That led to some smirking from Morrigan and Zevran, eye rolling from Wynne, some slobbering from Cullen, a shallow nod of approval from Sten, and a stupid grin from Alistair. We just shook our heads and made a production of going our separate ways at bedtime.<p>

We released the survivor but took their weapons with us. We're keeping some to sell; the rest got thrown in the lake about a mile up the road from the scene. Riley and company saw us do it and probably spent some time fishing their gear back out. We did see some smoke from behind us; Alistair's pretty sure that was bodies being burned. We're not worried them coming after us, but we'll be watching our backs until we hit Orzammar.

Neria's okay. She's in her tent, shaky and scared, but physically okay now, and resting comfortably enough with a hot meal inside her. Alistair had a concussion, but Wynne took care of that before we moved on. Sten received more than a few cuts and one bad arrow wound, but the giant butthead insists he can heal naturally. At least he lets Wynne bandage him up. The rest of us were physically fine (just minor cuts and bruises), although Wynne's wrung out from healing us and the worst of the survivors.

So I guess that's it for the night. Guard shifts tonight are for the healthier folks, so I'm gonna get some sleep before my turn.

* * *

><p><strong>16 August (day 60), morning<strong>

Well, if I've kept the journal accurately then this is two months. Seems like forever. I guess the important thing is I'm still alive despite some close calls. But you don't want to read my existential musings, do you? puts tip of little finger to corner of lips Or do you?

No. You don't. But you're gonna have to, at least a little.

I didn't sleep well. I killed two people yesterday and contributed to more. It was a kill-or-be-killed situation, but damn it if I hadn't done what I did Neria would have probably ended up dead, and maybe someone else would have too. I'm hesitant to include myself in the set, so I'll say I'm hanging with a bunch of badasses / tagging along with some formidable folk / in the company of heroes. (Select one or more.) But for whatever crazy reason the multiverse came up with I'm here with them and they're counting on me to get their backs. And getting their backs means putting swords in other peoples' backs. I can do that. I have to do that. So I can justify those deaths to myself with no difficulty. I did it for the team, because they needed the support, not because I wanted to.

Doesn't mean I have to like it though.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

I plopped down on a rock next to Neria. Her color's back and her strength is up. But we've got her on light duty for a couple more days so right now the toughest thing she's dealing with are veggies. If only Sten would listen to us and do the same.

Neria gave me a smile (and Cullen gave me a friendly _huff_) as I sat; she's in good humor again. It was time to wreck it.

"So young lady: are you ready for your ass chewing?"

She gave me a Zevran grin. "Shouldn't you be asking Leliana that?"

Shields were up and holding at 100%. "Maybe later. I'm talking about what you did yesterday."

The grin faded. "I said I was sorry." And she had. She'd woken up a couple hours after the fight. With all the energy gone she realized what she'd said to Riley she apologized to both me and Alistair.

"Not that. I'm talking about walking out in front of that platoon. That patrol."

Neria stopped chopping. "Maker, Jeff! If I hadn't-"

"If you hadn't they would have been firing – uh, shooting blindly into the woods. We could have either waited them out or shot back from there."

"Some of you could have been hurt. I put a shield around myself." Shrug and a bitter smile. "It didn't work very well."

I didn't know that, but, "It worked well enough to keep you alive. But that's not what I'm-"

"Leliana! Come here; Jeffrey wants to nibble your bum."

The shot had no effect on me but Leliana staggered and gave Neria a dirty look. Then she transferred the look to me.

"Maybe later," I said. I don't know if Neria was being deliberately obtuse or if her energy was simply too high.

Leliana winked back at me. "Maybe." She turned to go.

"Leliana, please? Sit with us for a moment."

"You may not want to; I'm trying to yell at Neria for breaking cover yesterday." I gave the mage a frown. "She's not cooperating."

Leliana's face went serious. "Perhaps I can help."

"Oh, Maker! You, too?"

"And me as well." Sten's voice made Neria jump.

That got out of control quick. But I ran with it. "I was talking – well, trying to talk to Neria about leaving cover yesterday." You're not supposed to chew someone out in front of others, so I gave Neria an out. "I was hoping to do this privately, but if you're okay with them being here so am I."

Neria looked confused. "Why privately?"

"Because what I have to say might embarrass you."

Comprehension crept over her face. "Maker. I made a 'get people killed' mistake, didn't I?"

I was actually surprised she remembered that. Surprised enough that I couldn't speak for a second.

Sten pounced. "You did. Our position was secure. You should not have left it. We were fortunate to prevail as we did."

I couldn't add anything to that, so I kept quiet. Leliana nodded gently.

Neria did look chastened now. "But what about the archers?"

Sten nodded towards Leliana. "The bard is skilled and her targets were not concealed. She would have prevailed given time."

"Thank you, Sten."

"I am merely stating facts."

I spoke up again. "And if they rushed us you'd have magicked them down."

Sten shifted uneasily. "This is true. The boss seraboss – and you – would have acted from cover. You risked yourself needlessly."

At that Neria did look chastened. And uncomfortable.

Sten spoke again. "You are intelligent and learn quickly. I believe you will not repeat this mistake. Unless you have questions of me I have no more to say."

Neria just shook her head.

"Very well." Sten turned and marched away.

So the big guy had jumped in and stolen my thunder, but I didn't really mind. He'd said pretty much everything I'd wanted to say, albeit a bit more bluntly. Neria was considering his words, and I privately agreed with Sten that she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"Okay, then," I said, and started to get up.

"Wait," Neria said.

I did. So did Leliana.

"I'm…sorry."

I gave her a small but sincere smile and a pat on the arm. "I know. Don't worry about it. Just…don't do it again." I don't know why I kept going after that, but I thought it was innocuous. "You're too important to be doing things like that. Let us take the chances."

"But that's why I did it. Because you're important to me." Neria suddenly blushed and grimaced and shook her head. "Oh, Maker, I didn't mean it like that! I mean all of you are important. You're-" She stopped and took a deep breath. "I…panicked a little bit. I thought if I stepped out that could avoid the fight, and that no one would get hurt."

Leliana answered first. "That is very dear of you. But we have chosen to accompany you. We are accepting of the danger."

"And you're forgetting something," I added. "You're a Grey Warden. One of two. The only two in Ferelden."

"This is true. You – and Alistair – must act cautiously, for it is you who are uniquely suited to combat the Blight."

"And that means you're – well, you and Alistair – are the most important ones here."

Neria suddenly looked scared. "Does…that…? No!"

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. "Neria. Please. I know it's a scary thought, but if it comes down to choosing between you or Alistair or me or Leliana – sorry – well, it better be one of you two, not one of us."

Neria started. Her eyes looked a little wild, and they shot back and forth between Leliana and me.

Leliana spoke quietly. "Jeffrey understands that it is you who are needed against the Blight. Not him. Or us."

Neria's not stupid. She let out a quiet moan. Cullen perked his ears up; it was his first reaction to the conversation.

"I am sorry, Neria, but I thought you understood this."

"I did," Neria whispered. She stood up heavily. "I'll be in my tent." She turned and walked the short distance and crawled into her shelter. Cullen followed her with a confused whine.

Leliana and I stared at each other in silence for a while.

"You still have a role-"

"No. Neria and Alistair are the important ones here. The rest of us are here to help them do their job."

Leliana waited patiently to speak. "We all have a role in this; the Maker has shown me. I do not know how our roles will play, but we are all important. Including you."

"If you say so."

"I say so."

"Okay, but-" I nodded towards Neria's tent. "-they're the ones who're _most_ important."

"I will agree with you on that."

* * *

><p><strong>17 August (day 61), morning<strong>

I totally expected to end up in the Fade last night, but instead I had one of those dreams. Have you ever had the one where you trying to make your car stop but no matter how hard you press the brake pedal the car just keeps moving? And then you get closer and closer to the car in front of you and you know you're going to hit it but you never quite do? Yeah, one of _those_.

First, I couldn't decide between helping Alistair or Neria. I was just walking in long circles between the two of them. Every time I got close to one I'd change my mind and head for the other. I finally got to Neria and my shoes turned red and I couldn't walk, so I tried to help her. But I couldn't do anything for her. I couldn't grasp the arrows. Bandages and pressure and tourniquets didn't stop the bleeding. And the whole time she cried for me to go help Alistair instead.

I really need to blow off some steam. Fortunately large quantities of alcohol aren't available, so I'm gonna go for a run instead.

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

First, having the entire group continue teasing me and Leliana helped improve everybody's spirits.

Second, in the interest of helping me blow off more of that steam Alistair and I talked for a bit then agreed to another beatdown session. This time, though, everybody was in on the plan and things didn't get out of control. It actually ended up being therapeutic for everybody and was totally worth the broken arm I got.

Third, Neria's feeling better. No major epiphany on her part; just a slowly bettering mood throughout the day. I think feeling physically better and having a better night's sl

* * *

><p><em>AN: Neria's actions here were kind of stupid, but she was very stupid during the in-game battle that inspired this chapter. While I was making sure Alistair was tanking the right target and switching Leliana back to her bow for the third time Neria just trotted right out in the middle of the field and found some arrows. Unfortunately they were moving at high speed. At least Sten knows how to do his job without much supervision._

**SnowHelm:**_ Fight scenes can be tricky, but since I'm working from a limited first person view basically I'm just describing things as Jeff would see them. Melees tend to be loud, fast, and confusing, especially for the people in them, so Jeff won't see much beyond what's directly in front of him._

**InsidiousAgent: **_I agree about the first few chapters being unimpressive, but I was still getting my writing legs under me. And I also agree about the plot thinning out in places. I have a bad tendency to bog myself down in irrelevant details; you wouldn't believe the amount of stuff I've written that I'll probably never use. Hmm. Maybe I'll have an outtake episode._

**OurLadyoftheBonBons: **_Thanks! And _**Beta Reader**_ loves your screen name_

**Rioshi sama:**_ Thank you. Oh, and sorry about the login thing._

**bigstupidjellyfish1337:**_ When I started _**MoN** _I figured I was going too fast and would end finishing up what I wanted to do in about 30 chapters or so. Then things started getting out of control (in a good way) and I was thinking, well maybe 50 chapters. Right now I'm foolishly thinking I might have it wrapped up in a dozen or so more chapters. We'll see. And that reminds me: I just reached a personal milestone of 200,000 words. It's a little hard to believe._

_The format was serendipitous. I didn't like the idea of just narrating the story, so I went with the journal format. It's let me pull a couple of tricks and I have some ideas for some more. But like Jeff said a few chapters back it's too bad he doesn't a have a laptop. Then again, if he did have a laptop he'd be on Chapter 100 and not even to Denerim by now._

_MINOR SPOILER: Bodahn and Sandal will be appearing again very soon._


	54. Getting On With It, Part I

**18 August (day 62), noon and later**

Wynne cleared me to write. And had Alistair give me back the journal. Neria gave me back the pen. Zevran was hiding the ink. So with that in mind:

We turned off the lake road first thing this morning and picked up a new one heading west. It also heads up. We've been climbing steadily into the hills all day. Glad we've got Bill doing the heavy lifting for us, but it seems like a light load for him. Her. There's a beautiful view of the lake behind us; I can't wait to see the sunrise tomorrow.

But in the interest of keeping up with what needs to be kept up with here's what happened last night:

[questioning hiss]

"Yeah. We're taking a walk."

I summoned the rifle and ammo and headed down the road. It took a while, but I had a pretty good idea what I was going to eventually run into and I wasn't disappointed. The sand and rocks soon gave way to grass and trees and I ended up on the small bluff below which we'd set up camp. It wasn't daylight, but it wasn't dark, either. I could clearly see the major stuff: the fire, the tents, big trees, Bill's cart (but no Bill). And two fairly confused mages. Morrigan and Wynne were standing by the fire pit radiating that same realness that Keenan (and Irving and Neria) had the first time I'd seen him.

I backed up off the edge of the bluff. "I think you better stay here. At least until I call you." I followed that up with some hand gestures.

Thing hissed back to me and hunkered down.

"Wish me luck."

[hiss]

I double-checked the rifle and made sure it was safed then headed down to the camp.

Morrigan was the first to spot me. "Well, well. This is most peculiar. It seems you were not exaggerating after all."

Wynne gave me a stare that could have melted iron. "I told you not to do this." Her voice could have cooled it back down.

I stared right back. "No, you didn't."

"We agreed that you would exercise this talent under supervision."

"You may have agreed to that but I didn't."

"You don't understand the dangers of the Fade."

I patted the M16. "I understand them well enough to bring this."

Wynne seemed to notice the rifle for the first time. "Well, if that's a…weapon…then, yes, you've taken a small precaution."

"If," Morrigan interrupted, "you two have finished bickering I think you should know we have a visitor." She was looking back over my shoulder.

I shut up and spun around but kept the rifle down. I was pretty sure Thing hadn't come down. He hadn't.

"'Tis but a rage demon. No doubt it was attracted by your calm demeanor."

Wynne _hmmphed_ in reply.

The demon was gliding closer and I was feeling a bit nervous. "Are either of you planning on taking care of it?"

Wynne snorted angrily and sent a huge ball of rock and earth at the demon. Morrigan followed up by icing the thing. Wynne hit it again and the demon shattered.

I was impressed. That was a lot quicker than assault rifle fire. I was also confused. "How does that even work here?" I asked as I turned back around.

"Magic," Morrigan laughed. "But the better question is how and why you are here?" She strolled up to me in that casually dangerous way of hers. "Dressed strangely, although not for you." (Jeans and a t-shirt.) She gave the rifle a long look. "And what are you carrying?" She didn't wait for me to answer but turned back to Wynne. "'Tis probably no demon."

"Thanks."

Wynne waved a hand at me. "Look at him; he's…far too…right to be a demon."

"'Far too right'? That was not how you described me when I rescued you from the Fade."

Wynne flushed. Somehow. "We're not to speak of that."

"Very well." Morrigan spun back to me. Her form blurred slightly as she spun. She ended up with one hand on the back of my head and the other pressing a knife to my throat.

"Morrigan!"

"So if you are who you appear to be tell me: what happened when I took you into my tent so many nights ago?"

For some stupid reason I wasn't scared. "Well, if I remember correctly…you robbed me of the will to live, drained my blood to make tea, reanimated my corpse to inflict pain and terror upon your enemies, and used my soul as a placeholder in your spellbook."

Wynne inhaled sharply.

Morrigan laughed and withdrew the knife. "'Tis you."

"Who were you expecting?"

Morrigan shrugged. "The Fade can be a deceitful place. And this-" She waved at the camp. "-is certainly unique in my experience. At least outside the realm of a sloth demon."

"And mine," Wynne stated, "but you don't see me holding a knife to Jeff's throat."

Morrigan kept her eyes locked on mine. "I was not holding a knife to _Jeff's_ throat."

I knew what she meant. Apparently so did Wynne because she frowned, crossed her arms, and gave Morrigan a sharp nod.

"Now that we have settled your identity perhaps we should deal with the other demon that has been watching us."

"Uh, what?" I spun around in place. Thing wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Demon?" Wynne asked. "Where."

"'Tis hiding over there." Morrigan waved her hand in roughly the direction I'd entered the dream-camp from. "It has been observing us at least since Jeff's arrival."

And I'd thought I was alone when I walked up. "That's not reassuring."

"And it shouldn't be. You need-"

"Demon!" Morrigan called. "Show yourself!"

I had a thought. I looked up towards the brush Thing was concealed in; it was at about eight o'clock from where Morrigan was facing. "Thing! You still there?"

[loud, affirmative hiss]

Both Morrigan and Wynne started.

I held up hand. "Stay there for now."

[loud hiss]

"Was that the bishgu? I'd hoped to see it."

We turned as one towards the new speaker. A desire demon strutted into sight as it alternated looking at Thing's hiding place and my subconscious. It locked its eyes on mine and shifted into an impossibly top-heavy and curvaceous Morrigan.

Wynne snickered.

Morrigan turned to me. "I trust this is not how you see me." She must have been in a good mood because she sounded amused.

I was half-facepalming while considering D-Morrigan's clothing. "How does _that_ even work?"

The demon stopped walking. "Is this not appealing?"

"Confusing maybe."

"I see. Perhaps a different form…." It shifted into Leliana without changing anything but the head and the complexion.

Morrigan snickered.

I just stared.

The demon looked confused then the rags shifted into leathers. The body was still impressively curved rather than leanly muscled. "Better?"

I shook my head. "You…just…don't get it…do you?"

Wynne spoke quietly. "Demons see our world in the briefest of glimpses. They understand little of it and show us-"

D-Leliana's face showed anger. "We understand more of your realm than you know. But we are forced to see through the reflections of your understandings. Or in some cases-" She was still staring at me. "-your desires." Another ripple and Wynne was standing there wearing Leliana's leathers.

Morrigan snorted.

Wynne hissed. "Enough, creature."

I finished my facepalm. "Oy gevalt."

Wynne continued angrily. "They see, but they don't understand."

"Mother said they understand more than they know. Although I doubt that is true with this example." Morrigan was biting back laughter at the confused demon and the indignant Wynne. And me, too, because she leaned in and whispered a single word.

"No!"

"Too late," Morrigan said with a chuckle.

"Another form?" The demon sounded indignant itself. "You have…many desires."

I refused to look at however it was interpreting Neria. "You can read my desires?"

"Of course. I…seek them."

"Then you should know I desire to _not be embarrassed anymore!_"

Morrigan laughed again. I heard a quiet cough from Wynne.

The demon huffed then spoke. "This form is…harder to reach, but meets your desire."

"Now that is interesting." Morrigan didn't have any laughter in her voice.

"Who is that?" Wynne asked..

I peeked through my fingers at the petite red-haired woman the demon was mimicking. The proportions were still completely wrong, although they were more realistic. She was wearing jeans and a Vaarsuvius t-shirt. "Next," I said flatly and deliberately pictured Gillian Anderson.

"You have a preference for red hair," Morrigan stated a few seconds later.

I glanced at Morrigan. "I'm surprised she hasn't picked up on my thing for boots." That earned me a flicker of a smile. I returned my attention to the demon. "But what I'm wondering is why so shallow? Why are you only trying to tempt me with…this?"

Agent Scully looked confused. "Because this is what you want."

I looked back to Wynne. "And people fall for this?"

"Desires are powerful things. And it's not often that one faces a demon with the help of others."

"But can't she…do better?" Back to the demon. "I don't know how you usually do things, but this…isn't working."

"You want me." Scully sounded a bit desperate.

"I know what I want but you're just scratching the surface."

"You do not know what you want." A perfectly formed Amy Pond stepped into view from behind Scully. She looked at me with such a hungry expression that I took a step backwards. She flung something towards us; a black and yellow book landed on the ground. "But have I delved deeply enough for you?"

Scully turned around and screeched, "No! I was here first!"

"So you were," the Pond said dismissively, "and you're letting him play tricks with you." She moved with supernatural speed and caught Scully by the arm. Both 'ladies' shimmered and settled back into their natural forms. The second demon kept shimmering, though, and ended up posing as Amy again. "Please," she said intensely, "pardon…my…sister. She is inexperienced."

The first demon screeched again in wordless outrage.

Pond actually began dragging the demon away. No small feat considering the muscles and flailing claws suddenly on display. "Come, sister. Let us leave him with his companions for the moment. We'll find him another time." She gave me a toothy smile. I'm not positive the teeth were human. She turned, screeched sharply, bore down, and the two demons disappeared from sight.

Wynne's voice was shaky. "That second demon is a predator. An experienced predator."

My voice was shaky, too. "I totally agree."

Morrigan was more interested in the book it'd dropped and was kneeling by it. "Do not give into her temptations and you will be well. But this is…different." She sounded fine, if a little distracted.

I stepped over and took a look at the cover: _The Fade for Dummies_.

Wynne stepped up behind me. "Hmm. An appropriate title, no? Morrigan! I think that's a bad idea." Her voice was still a little shaky.

The witch had been reaching for the book but stopped. "Perhaps you are right." She looked at me. "I think the demon intended it for you."

Wynne didn't have to warn me. "I ain't touching it!" I wasn't sure I didn't want it, but that was a different problem. I looked to my companions. "So now what?"

The ladies looked around, at each other, and then at me.

"What do you…usually do?" Wynne asked.

"Well, um, this is about it. So unless you want to meet Thing I don't-"

"Let's save that for another time. I've all the surprises I care to have for this evening."

Morrigan snorted.

"You disagree."

"I do. Who knows when we shall have another opportunity such as this?"

I raised a hand. "Me. I'll end up here again in a few days. And I'll probably drag you along with me again."

"I was speaking rhetorically."

"I know."

Wynne suddenly looked and sounded impatient. "So we're to just sit here and bicker?"

"Unless you wanna play chess."

"Bickering is fine."

Morrigan was still eyeing the book while holding a ball of fire in her hand. "We should deal with this first." She nodded to me. "With your permission; after all, 'tis yours."

I really wanted to at least see the table of contents. "Do it."

* * *

><p>In case you're wondering the redhead in the OotS t-shirt was the demon's interpretation of my wife. I don't think I felt any desire when I saw it, but I certainly felt pissed. I think. Quite a bit homesick. Definitely betrayed by my own thoughts. Somehow the demon had reached below the surface and found a nugget of something a bit more nuanced than simple lust.<p>

Wynne picked up on that. "Who was she?"

Remember what I'd said about just pushing the inconvenient emotions aside? "Who was who?"

Wynne wasn't buying it. "The woman with clothes like yours."

"A…. a girl named Amy." She'd also been wearing jeans, and, frankly, whatever digging the second demon had done to come up with her and the book made me very nervous.

"So you know her?"

"I do."

"From your home?"

"Yes."

"She's important to you."

"Not as much as you'd think."

"Jeff…."

I let the silence hang.

"However unimportant you think she is..." Even in the dark I could see Wynne's lips pressed together. "The demon thought she was important enough to you-" Wynne stopped and put a hand out to me.

I suppressed a flinch. "Not important enough that I need to talk about it."

Her hand rested lightly on my arm. "The demon found a weakness and it _will_ use it to subvert you."

"Only if I let it."

Wynne let the silence hang.

So did I.

"You're only fooling yourself," she finally said.

"I know."

Sigh. "Fine. But I'm here if you want to talk." Wynne turned to go.

I waited for her to get out of earshot. "I know, but I don't wanna talk." Instead I'll just throw this down into the hole with the rest of the emotional baggage. It's getting pretty full, but it's nowhere near critical mass.

Yet.

* * *

><p><strong>19 August (day 63), mid-afternoon<strong>

Gherlen's Pass is a little village sitting on a fork in the road on a large and relatively level spot in the mountains. If you're heading to Orlais the road levels off and appears to stay that way for a while. The route to Orzammar, OTOH, is more of what we've been dealing with: a decent, but steadily climbing road, at least from what I can tell so far.

We stopped for a hot, but ultimately, unsatisfying lunch that was more edible and less digestible than it sounds. I didn't want it to not sit well so I left quite a bit that Alistair or Cullen or somebody would probably eat and went out for a walk. Yeah, I know, but what I wanted to do was actually _look_ at things, not just walk past them.

I walked in a circle around the little settlement and ended up at the fork in the road. Somebody somewhen had taken the time to mark out the obvious. There was a flattened sheet of stone set upright and half-buried next to a boulder. Somebody had carved 'Orlay' [sic] and 'Ores Hammer' [also sic] and a couple of arrows pointing in the right directions. The carvings are old enough that there's not a single sharp edge left to them. The only reason they're still legible is because of the depth at which they'd been originally and neatly cut.

I glanced at the road to Orzammar but decided to take a closer look at the road heading to Orlais. It follows the best path across the plateau and runs more or less level until it gets out of sight. Way off in the distance I could see a dark blur slowly making its way towards me; except for some hawks that was the only sign of life out there. Still a nice view, though. I found a seat and just sat there and soaked it up and let myself fall into the moment.

Zevran's voice roused me out of my state. "There he is." He stopped and stood next to me, but not until he'd _tsked_ at the marker.

Alistair stepped on the other side and bumped me. "Jeff. You weren't thinking of running off to Orlais on us, were you?"

I stood up and stretched but kept looking out through the valley. "It's supposed to be nice there in the fall, isn't it?"

"That's what I've heard."

"Oh, but it is lovely, mio amico. The weather cools and the streets come alive and stay so all day. And at night, well, the ladies look for ways to keep warm."

Alistair chuckled. "Which you're more than happy to provide them, I suppose."

"Oh, si!"

I chuckled myself. "Sounds nice. Anybody up for another side trip?"

Alistair shot me a look. "You know, Jeff, sometimes I can't tell if you're joking about things or not."

"And that's why I like playing cards with you."

Zevran laughed. "That is why the rest of us enjoy playing with both of you. Jeff doesn't know the game; Alistair doesn't know the players. Soldi facili."

"You know," Alistair said in an attempt to be menacing, "there are two large and well-armed men standing next to you. And you've taken coin from both of them."

"But I've done so honestly. Don't forget that." Zevran bowed slightly. "Perhaps we should play again tonight. You might win your money back."

"I think we both know better than that."

"I'll play," I said. "But I'm not totally stupid. Small stakes only."

"So you're not going to Orlais?" Alistair teased.

"Not right now." Sometime during the few minutes of staring at the road to Orlais I'd decided that my place is with this ragtag bunch of sociopaths that I'm one of. Don't know why. I've got a pouch full of cash and a head full of ideas. All I'd have to do was grab my gear and start walking to Orlais or somewhere else where I could be safe and comfortable. Or I could stay with the group and throw myself into a nightmare from which I might not wake up. I was at a physical and metaphorical fork in the road. I needed to decide if I wanted to try to dodge fate or give in and accept what it had in store for me. Fate had worked with me once back at Lothering, and probably in other places over the last couple of months. That didn't mean it would keep working for me. But, suddenly, somewhere in the back of my brain, the mental coin finally stopped spinning and came up heads. And I was cool with that. Besides, if I embrace the situation and play the game (so to speak) I might get that chance to get home. So, somehow, I need to stop wangsting and lean forward and embrace the opportunity I'm being given. Or having thrown at me. Or being thrown into.

Besides, I like Alistair. He's a good guy and I don't wanna let him down.

And maybe that's what it all comes down to.

Anyway…

Zevran raised an eyebrow. "A bout of madness?"

I shrugged with my entire torso and both arms. "Clarity, maybe."

"One can be mad and yet see clearly at the same time."

"True." Especially knowing everything that lies ahead.

"I think I missed something." Alistair sounded confused.

"Some time ago Jeff and I concluded that the truly sane course of action for us was to leave Ferelden. To flee to a zona proteta somewhere in the north and far from the Blight."

Alistair looked a little concerned and a wee bit angry. "But…. I don't understand; you're still here. With us. Both of you. And you're thinking about…running away?"

"Si, but I have pledged my life to Neria, and though I am many things, I am a man of my word."

"Didn't you pledge your life to the Crows first? Don't answer that." Alistair turned worried eyes to me. "And-"

"I've only thought about running off. But don't worry. I've decided I'm sticking with you as long I can."

Worry turned to skepticism. "Really?"

"Really. I promise. You're gonna have to put up with me complaining about that stupid cheese for a while longer."

Skepticism still flickered across Alistair's face. "Really?" At my nod he added, "Pinky swear? Provided you're willing to put up with the cheese, of course."

Zevran snorted. "In truth? Pinky swear?"

"Quiet you! So…?" Alistair held out his little finger.

I looked at his finger for a few very long seconds. "You sure? I mean-" I patted my sword. "-I'm not sure how much I'm contributing."

Skepticism turned into earnestness. Or something like that. "You're doing fine. And I'm, uh, glad to have you here."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yeah. I do."

That was good enough for me. I locked my eyes and pinkie with Alistair's. "Then I got your back as long as you want me to."

Alistair gave me a grin as earnestness turned to relief. "It might be for a while. But don't worry; that cheese is almost gone."

"Ah! Fereldens. Had I known it was so easy to gain your trust-"

I unlocked pinkies and eyeballed Zevran. "Not sure if you noticed but I'm not Ferelden."

Alistair was still grinning. "The accent must have confused you. Oh, and try not to kill people when you first meet them. That tends to put a sour note on a budding relationship."

Zevran chuckled.

"So," Alistair asked as we turned to head back to the little tavern, "the two of you think we're crazy?"

"Oh no, mio amico." I could hear the grin in Zevran's voice. "I know we are."

"Hmm. Jeff?"

"I agree with Zevran. But I figure I've come this far so I might as well keep running with it."

Alistair _hmmed_ again. Then suddenly he laughed and slapped me on the back so hard I stumbled. "That's the spirit!"

* * *

><p><strong>20 August (day 64), morning<strong>

"I know we haven't seen anything the last couple of days, but there's got to be more of Loghain's troops out there in front of us." I looked around at the group and waved my hands in frustration. This was the third time around on this argument. I was trying to avoid our walking into the ambush that should be waiting for us at Orzammar. "The platoon we fought; they said they represented the King, right?"

Morrigan looked up from where she was tightening a cord on her staff. "I do not doubt you. But they were the only men of the King's – or Loghain's – that we have seen."

"And that's my point. Why would they be the only ones running around out here?"

"Your logic is sound-"

"Thank you."

"-but there are no facts to support it. The merchant we encountered yesterday had seen no soldiers of Loghain. Or of any other noble."

Sigh.

"No," Neria finally said. "When Jeffrey gives us a warning he's usually right. His…hunches were right in Denerim. I told you all about that."

"And that is why I do not doubt him. Well, his sincerity. But we have seen nothing of-"

"Morrigan, I know this is tiring for you, but can you…?" Neria was hesitant to come right out and mention Morrigan's shapeshifting, but we all knew what she meant.

"'Tis tiring, but if you insist…."

"Please. And you won't have guard at night."

Morrigan inclined her head. "Very well."

Neria looked around at us. "Thank you. Truly."

Morrigan inclined her head. "And now you should see to Sten."

The big guy was standing a respectful distance away. But probably close enough that he could hear what we were talking about.

Neria sighed. "Scheisse." I'm rubbing off on her. "Yes, Sten?"

"I would speak with you privately, Warden."

"We need to get packed up."

"This will take but a moment."

I stepped in before Sten could continue. "Neria. Thanks for, uh, believing me."

She just gave me a quick smile and turned to Sten.

"Warden, I take issue with your use of the boss seraboss' abilities."

Neria shook her head as she started walking back towards the main camp. "Sten, we've been over this before…."

I turned back to Morrigan. "Just wanted to thank you for doing this. The recon – well, actually, for helping out in the Fade, too, I guess."

Morrigan lifted an eyebrow. "'Recon'?"

"Scouting."

"I see." She filed that nugget of info away. "The _recon_ is at Neria's behest, but I suppose your caution is prudent. As for the Fade: I still have no answers for you, although I have considered a test of sorts. And the next time we are together there I would meet this Thing of yours."

"Sorry about that. He must have gotten bored."

Her mouth twitched. "I do not blame him. And Wynne: has she any new insights?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "She made me drink lyrium last night then sit and meditate."

Another eyebrow. "And?"

"Lyrium potions taste like metal. Took forever to get rid of the taste."

The eyebrow came back down.

"Nothing else."

"I would have thought not, but 'twas an interesting idea."

I just shook my head.

"You disagree?"

"No, but…. I don't know. I just don't think that…whatever's going with me is…magery. Ugh, is that even a word?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Or if it is…." I did the _huffing_ for a change. "I don't know. We just keep going around in circles on this and don't come up with any new answers. Sorry I bothered you."

"Do not be. Your curiosity is refreshing, and your frustration is understandable. Now leave me be; I would rest for a moment before we strike out again." Morrigan laid her staff aside.

"Sure. Uh, did you need any help packing up?"

Morrigan gave me a strange look. "My thanks, but no. Go help your shield-mate."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Not looking forward to the Deep Roads, but maybe there's a way around that. I just had a ding moment. Maybe I can create a Paragon. Details to follow.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'll have some with the next chapter._


	55. Getting On With It, Part II

_A/N: the previous chapter was updated on 12 December, so it's possible you haven't read it yet._

* * *

><p><strong>21 August (day 65), late afternoon and evening<strong>

"Jeffrey," Neria asked, "do you think this is a good idea?"

I nodded towards the ragged elf leading the horse and cart we were riding in. "Ask him; it's half his idea."

"I was asking if you think this is a good idea."

"Unless you want walk all the way around the mountain I think it's the best plan we've got."

Neria was quiet for a moment. "You still didn't say if this was a good idea."

Zevran looked back and quietly spoke. "It is a good plan, mio capo bella. We'll need a little luck, but only a little. Now be quiet. We are almost there."

Neria opened her mouth but snapped it shut again at my head shake. I don't blame her for being nervous, I was too. We'd split the team in two again. Zevran and Morrigan were with us; the rest of the group was a ways back. Morrigan had flown ahead and stationed herself in the little town known as Upper Orzammar; she was supposed to take an advantageous position against the ambush. Zevran was dressed in the same older clothes he'd had in Denerim, but took the time to make them look even shabbier. Neria had swapped out her bloodstained green robes in favor of a tunic and trousers. I was back in the beat-to-shit chainmail I thought I'd never wear again. Zevran looked like a poor elven servant and with a week's worth of stubble I easily passed for a down-on-his-luck mercenary. In contrast Neria looked fairly sharp; the plan was to pass her off as a merchant and us as her hired help. All we needed to do was get past Loghain's men at the top of the road; we were going to hit them from behind when Alistair's group came up to trigger the ambush. I was the only one with visible weapons, but Neria's staff was hidden at her feet and Zevran had his usual assortment of concealed knives. And if things went bad Leliana was following at the extreme end of her range; she could help immediately. The others would need a minute or so to get close, but they wouldn't be walking into archers and a mage.

It was good plan. Probably the best we could come up with, but like most plans, it didn't survive contact with the enemy.

The first part wasn't a problem. There were a half-dozen men-at-arms just hanging about; they'd grown alert when they saw us coming up the road but quickly got that relaxed look that meant they didn't consider us a threat. And I was able to tell that without my glasses.

Zevran turned around and bowed to Neria. "You see? Nothing to fear." He bowed again and turned around.

Neria mumbled something and kept staring straight ahead. The talk we'd given her about breaking cover had taken root, but that made it harder to convince her of the necessity of changing tactics to fit the situation.

I locked down my poker face as we got closer. The swordsmen were still watching us, but their attention was focused on Neria.

"Aye, she'd be a sweet treat all right."

I played my role and shot the speaker a glance that I hoped wasn't too challenging. I guess it was, or at least they had orders, because the speaker stepped into the road.

"Hold up there, knife-ear."

Zevran didn't even twitch. He did hunch as he responded with, "Ser."

The swordsman ignored Zevran and walked around the cart. He kept one eye on me and the other Neria, but kept going until he could reach over and look under the tarp we had covering our gear. I doubt he saw more than the folded tents.

"Hey!" I said quietly but firmly.

"King's business. You troubled with that?"

I kept playing the role and looked at the small crowd. I shook my head. "No. No problem." I tried to put a bit of a Ferelden accent in place but it was pretty bad.

The potential bad guys stayed relaxed but alert. The inspector came back to Neria. "So, missy, seen anything strange on the road?"

Neria played her part. "Strange, ser?" She sounded a little nervous, but that was perfect as far as I was concerned.

And I guess it was perfect for the swordsman. He sounded bored rather than curious. "You know: mercenaries, people-"

"No, ser. Not even any darkspawn. And I'd heard there was a Blight."

"Don't believe all you hear. Seen anybody calling themselves Grey Wardens?"

"Grey Wardens, ser? I'd heard they were all killed at the Battle of Ostagar." Good girl. We'd coached her on that answer.

"Said don't believe all you hear." He jerked his head. "Off with you."

Neria didn't say anything so I called sharply to Zevran. "Come on! Move!"

"Ser." I could hear the _I'll get you for that_ in Zevran's voice.

Totally worth it. I suppressed a smile then reached up and scratched the top of my head. That was the signal for _Part 1 down._ Leliana was, I hoped, watching us closely and passing the word to the rest of the group. Meanwhile we were rolling slowly forward towards a trio of archers and a mage. One archer, a stocky woman in leathers, was following the swordsmen's lead and paying no attention to us. She was also trying to not pay attention to the second archer who was taking a leak just off the road. The mage was a pretty blond woman wearing a long tunic that only came down to her thighs; black stockings and boots were the only things covering her legs. The third archer, a bone-skinny man, was quite sensibly taking the time to chat her up. I gave the mage an appreciative, but very subtle, glance as we approached.

Both the mage and the archer glanced a bit less subtly at Neria and me then went back to looking at each other. But then the mage looked up at us again with bewilderment on her face. A chill ran over me as she looked at-

"Neria?"

In my peripheral vision I saw Neria's head whip around. "Candila?"

"Who?" the archer asked.

"Hush!" Candila looked up at Neria. "Neria, is that you?"

Neria had her priorities in the right place. "Maker! What are you wearing?"

Candila looked down at herself then started turning red when she looked back up. "They're Tevinter robes. I had to find something after I lost-" Her eyes widened. "Sweet Andraste! I'd heard you were at Ostagar but I didn't know you'd survived. I'd heard all-" She snapped her mouth shut.

"Neria," I said while stretching with both arms and forgetting about my accent, "would you care to introduce us?" I peeked back at the swordsmen; they hadn't noticed the conversation yet.

Yet. "Maker!" the skinny archer shouted. "This is the Warden! Hey! Jack! I think this is thgrrrl-" He shut up because of the knife sticking out of his throat and staggered about clawing at it.

"Ah, shit!" I shouted. My shield was propped up next to my seat. I shoved my arm into the straps and yanked them tight.

"Zevran, no!" Neria shouted.

The elf had a second knife back and was ready to throw it at Candila. The other archers were looking around perplexed at what the situation had become. The one guy was still holding his dick and probably still peeing. The woman looked at me with a _WTF?_ expression then bugged her eyes out at the dying skinny guy.

"Not her!" Neria yelled.

I leaped off the cart and felt my knees protest. I ignored the pain and lurched into Candila's personal space. "Who are you with?" I reached for my sword and drew.

Candila watched me approach her. Then she turned and shoved her staff out in front of herself. The remaining archers were thrown backwards by a wall of solid air. Good answer.

"The road!" Zevran shouted. A knife _whooshed _over the cart but its target caught it on a shield.

A swordsman was coming at me along the cart using my favorite tactic. He dropped his shoulder as he closed. I leaned towards him, ignored my knees and squatted as I set. The collision knocked me back but stunned us both. We stared stupidly at each other for a few seconds then a decorated staff clocked the guy. He went down as my head cleared.

"Are you well?" Candila shouted.

"Well enough!"

The archers were done. The woman was a block of ice and the pisser was holding himself and moaning.

"Jeffrey!"

I felt the warm of a heal and turned as it faded. Neria was right behind me. There were two swordsman standing with their backs to the opposite side of the cart, blades out, and shields up. Zevran was standing a safe distance from them holding bloody knives. Morrigan was a bit further back, leaning on her staff and smiling wickedly. Leliana was jogging up the road with an arrow nocked and Cullen right beside her. The rest of the group was a distance back.

"I'm okay." I jogged around the unflappable Bill and saw the carnage. One guy down well back from us with an arrow in his back. Another was a block of ice. And one just had blood running out of his mouth and nose. I whipped my attention around to the survivors. They both looked scared and determined. But they had to be dealt with.

"Put the swords down," I said. "Fight's over." I pointed my sword down the road. "And we've got more friendlies on the way." I pointed my sword at the nearest bad guy. "Last chance."

He looked around at us. Leliana had just stopped and was standing ready. The three mages were watching him carefully. He tensed and so did we.

"Bloody void." He threw his sword in the dirt. So did his companion. He looked over his shoulder. "Bloody mage."

Candila looked back at him. "Bastard."

"Shields on the ground, too," I ordered. "Now!"

They grumbled but complied.

"Neria. Check those guys over there and see if you can help them. Zevran. Can you tie these two up?"

"I can, but-"

"Do it. Morrigan. Turn their brains into jello if they so much as cough."

"What is jello?"

Oops. I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Just do whatever you did to that guy."

"Gladly." Satisfaction dripped from her voice.

We got no trouble from the soldiers. Any of them. The guy who'd run into me was tied up with the rest before Neria healed him, but the last archer was so happy to be alive he was ready to tie himself up.

But they weren't Loghain's men; not directly. They're bounty hunters after the over fifty sovereigns being offered for multiple members of the group, although Alistair's worth by far the most.

"What about me?" Neria asked. "How much am I worth?"

Candila shrugged. "Five sovereigns, I think. The big reward is for the blond fellow there." She nodded to where Alistair was standing by the cart.

I rolled my shoulder for Wynne and got more clicks. "So what do we with'em?"

"Take their weapons," Neria said. "I don't think we need to kill them, do we?"

"They have submitted. These few, at least, are more interested in remaining alive than dying for a reward they will not receive. Let us move on." Sten actually sounded impatient.

"As soon as Jeff's shoulder is okay."

"He's fine," Wynne said. "Well, his shoulder is fine. I worry about his head, though."

"So do I," Neria said.

"As do I," Sten added.

We all turned to look at him.

"That was not a joke. Jeff requires a more adequate headgear than what he possesses."

Neria gave him a smile. "If you say so. Let's go!

* * *

><p>Leliana's right: Upper Orzammar is a little town. It's set up as a trade junction between the surface world and the dwarven kingdom. Forget there just being a half-dozen stalls; the place is more like the Denerim market. Except to set up you have to have permission from the Orzammar Merchant Caste. The problem right now, though, is that Orzammar's got its gates shut; the normal foot traffic going in and out is down to almost nothing and the only thing the guards are letting in is food.<p>

That means, except for food, we're able to get some serious bargains on some odds and ends. Unfortunately, we didn't really need anything. And we weren't able to sell the confiscated weapons for any reasonable amount. Money's not a problem; we're still pretty flush from the trip to Denerim, but expenses add up over the long run.

We did find a small stable that was willing to give us a good price to board and feed Bill as long as we needed, and they tucked the cart back into an unused corner somewhere. We loaded everything we could into our packs, loaded Sten up with an extra pack, and made our way back through the market.

Oh, and we found Farin's stall. I think we all thought Sten would tear the place apart, but he simply examined the weapons on display. "It is not here," he finally said. He looked up at Farin who quite astutely took a step back and out of reach.

"If you're looking for something in particular-"

"He's looking for a Qunari sword," Neria said in a very non-threatening manner. "We were told you might have it." She nodded at Sten. "I'd just give it to him if I were you."

Farin glanced back and forth between giant and girl. "All the two-handers I have are right here." He waved at a rack.

"No," Sten said, "this particular weapon would be uniquely marked." He grabbed a dagger off the table and scratched a design into the wood. "Perhaps this will aid your memory."

Farin didn't complain about the vandalism. Instead, at Neria's urging, he took a look at the sketch. "Aye, it does. I sold this about a month ago to a fellow named Dwyn. Mercenary from…Redcliffe, I think. Liked the design, he did."

"Sten…?"

The big guy actually snorted like a bull. "Very well. But if I determine that you are lying I will be back." He looked down to Neria. "Warden, let us proceed with our business here and be on."

"Please, Sten, be patient."

"It is…difficult at times."

That raised some eyebrows.

"I know, but please? For me?"

"Very well."

* * *

><p>The only other real issue to deal with was Candila, but she and Wynne and Neria kept their distance from the rest of us while talking about things. Candila was indeed at Ostagar, but Loghain had taken her with his portion of the army. She'd pledged loyalty to Loghain in exchange for a decree freeing her from Chantry oversight, but from the way she talked the Chantry probably thought she was dead anyway. She was quite ready to turn Alistair over to Loghain, but that idea had lasted only until she saw Neria sitting in the cart with me.<p>

"We're family; remember?" Neria said to me later. "Candila said she'd never hurt another mage. At least not one of us from the Tower." Then she leaned in to whisper. "But she always did like to show off her legs."

"Well, they're worth showing off ow!"

Zevran laughed quietly from across the room.

Neria sat back with a satisfied smile that quickly melted away. "She hasn't been in the Tower since before I left. She'd heard some talk about...what happened with Uldred, but just didn't know…."

"So where's she going? Not back to the Tower?"

"She said she wants to, just to see who's…alright, but she doesn't want to be there anymore, either." She gave a little frown. "I guess I understand. I can't see myself being…being…being…."

"Being shut away?"

"Locked in." She went into her Templar voice. "'To protect us and others from us.' Hmmph! I can't go back, and not just because I'm a Grey Warden."

Zevran looked up from the book he was reading. "It isn't easy walking away from all that you know. But sometimes it is necessary." He put his nose back in the book.

Neria (and I) considered his words. "Well, Candila made that choice. I didn't."

There was another moment of quiet before I spoke again. "Tell you what: when all this is over we'll figure out a way to make you a new home."

"If this is ever over." Neria stood up suddenly. "I'd like that. Having a home again." She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "Good night."

"Good night."

"Good night, Zevran. And no, I do not need you to see me to my room."

Zevran bowed and plopped back down into his chair. "Buona sera, mio capo bella." Zevran waited until Neria left then lowered his book to speak to me. "I worry for her."

"I do, too."

"She is forte one moment and fragile the next."

I just nodded.

"But we're all here for her. As she said, we must all take care of each other."

"That's what it always comes down to: looking out for the people who're looking out for you."

Zevran gave me a seated bow. "That is wisdom that comes from being veterano."

"Thanks, but right now I just feel old, not wise."

"We are all tired right now. Rest, and tomorrow, whenever that is, you will have your vita again."

Shrug. "We'll see."

"You will. Do not diminish yourself, mio amico."

* * *

><p>So back to the main sequence:<p>

The steps up to the great doors were clear and clean. We could hear some voices arguing as we climbed.

"I demand you grant me an audience with your king's regent." The voice was Ferelden accented.

A dwarven accent came back in reply. "No audiences."

"You realize you insult all of Ferelden by your actions."

"Ferelden's not my concern."

"King Loghain's messenger will not be delayed!"

"'King' Loghain?" Alistair muttered.

"And your human king's not my concern either."

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of your…whatever you call your lords. And I am here to deliver that demand." The speaker was wearing plain but well-made armor and had the look of someone used to getting his way. I remember the game made him out to be kind of pompous, but this guy was clearly a jerk on top of that.

The dwarf guard captain wasn't taking any crap though. "I don't care if you're the king's wiper. No one gains entry to Orzammar except our own until the succession is decided." He said that last part as he watched us approach.

The jerk's companion mage suppressed a laugh at the dwarf's comment. The plate-armored knight standing next to him gave him gentle elbow to shut him up, but I heard something from the other knight that sounded suspiciously mirthful. Then he saw Neria and opened his mouth, but Candila had made her way over to him and shook her head and started whispering.

We stood there silently, though, and waited for Loghain's envoy to stop turning purple and start talking again. He didn't, though; he seemed to regard our presence as beneath him.

The dwarf captain shrugged. "Very well." He looked us over. "I assume one of you's in charge. What do you want? Oh, and by the way, Orzammar is closed to outsiders."

Neria looked over at the other mage. "Hello, Tobias."

He inclined his head. "Neria. Senior Enchanter. I, uh, assume Candila will tell me what's happening."

"We'll talk later. If we can." Neria turned to the dwarf. "I'm the leader, ser."

Loghain's envoy coughed.

The guard captain stood there with resigned impatience. "Then get on with it."

"We…have important business in Orzammar."

The envoy coughed again. "None more important than mine."

The captain just shook his head. "Your business will have to wait. No outsiders are allowed into Orzammar." His expression softened just a hair. "We have to limit the influence of outsiders on the succession."

"Ser, please. We need to see your king. It's urgent."

"If I don't get in you-"

The envoy shut up as Sten took a step towards him.

The guard captain actually broke into a smile at that but spoke seriously. "You don't understand, do you?"

Neria shook her head. "Your king – King Aeducan - he died recently."

A nod. "Yes. He returned to the stone but three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his children."

"I'm sorry about that."

The envoy opened his mouth but Sten growled deeply.

Another nod. "I can see that you are. But again, no outsiders until the Assembly's decided the succession."

"How long will that be?"

"Soon I hope. We've had a dozen votes but none have been close."

Neria turned around. She looked a little frustrated, a little apprehensive, and a lot out of her depth. Her eyes bounced among us for a few seconds; when they met mine I gave her a nod and smile. She took a few more seconds then turned back to the dwarf and took a deep breath. "Ser," she said in that no-nonsense, confident voice of hers, "the Grey Wardens formally request the aid of their ancient allies: the dwarves. Alistair?"

Alistair stepped forward and handed the dwarf the treaty. He stepped back as the dwarf unrolled the scroll.

"Grey Wardens?" Even Sten's looming presence couldn't shut the envoy up. "The Grey Wardens betrayed King Cailan and are sworn enemies of King Loghain."

"Loghain usur-"

I threw an elbow that landed with a clank. "Alistair! Not now!"

He gave me a bitter look but subsided. "Right."

"Ser?" Neria asked.

The guard captain only needed a moment to examine the scroll. "This document appears to be genuine, and this is definitely the royal seal, and I have no authority to question it. This matter will have to be taken up by the assembly." His mouth twitched in a little smile. "Grey Warden?"

"Ser?"

"You – and your cohort – may enter Orza-"

The envoy went apoplectic. "What! No! I- In the- You- In the name of King Loghain I- I- Demand you execute this…stain…on the honor of Ferelden." He actually put his hand on his sword. The two knights on his flanks were a bit more prudent, though; they stood still. And neither Candila nor Tobias made a move.

The dwarven guards reacted by simply readying their axes, but the captain remained calm. And unsympathetic. "Any disagreements you have with the Wardens will be resolved off these stairs!" He looked to Neria. "Warden," he said a bit more softly, "you and your cohort may enter Orzammar when you are ready. If you're ready."

Neria turned to stare at the envoy. Her voice was ice cold and rock steady when she spoke. "Look carefully at the people with me."

The envoy did. He looked scared but he held his ground.

"Do you think you'd even inconvenience us?" Neria continued. "I suggest you go back to Loghain and tell him the Grey Wardens are being heard by the dwarves, not him."

Although he made up mind immediately the envoy did manage to summon one last bit of bravado. "Loghain'll see you quartered for this!"

I felt Sten's rumble.

One of the envoy's knights leaned forward and spoke quietly.

"Pah!" The envoy turned and stalked away.

"Mage!" a knight snapped.

Tobias bowed. "Neria. I would speak with you, but…." He turned to follow the envoy.

"Neria!" Candila called as she followed him. "Maker watch over you."

We watched the envoy and his troupe head down the stairs. Neria let out a shaking breath.

"My thanks, Warden. "The captain actually sounded friendly. "I'd been arguing with that humper for half an hour. That was shinily done." He handed Neria the scroll then saw me looking at him. "What?"

I'd given the captain a startled look at the adjective he'd used. "Nothing."

"Hmmph. Open the door!"

I don't know why I expected them to open the gates of Orzammar when there was a perfectly good little walk-thru available. We stepped through one at a time, and a guard stepped in behind us to speak quietly to the captain. He only needed a minute to get his instructions then he closed the small but sturdy door with an expected but sadly underwhelming _thunk_.

But then I looked ahead and said the only thing I could when I saw what's there. "Cool!" I retrieved my glasses and shoved them on my face. I was looking at the statues of the Paragons. They're tinted red by the gentle glow from the very deep lava pits, which is in turn reflected into the hall by polished metal plates. The statues easily stand twenty feet tall. They're carved in amazing detail; some of the warrior-looking types have distinct scars. Skin is one type of stone, clothing a second, armor and weapons a third. A close look reveals an amazing amount of detailed attention paid to the hair and the beards. Even their tattoos are represented by polishing the stone to different textures. They'd be impressive even if they hadn't been carved by folks two-thirds human height.

A flat, midwestern accented voice spoke up from behind us. "Cool?"

I was still gawking. "Uh huh."

"It means he is impressed," Sten answered. "As am I."

"I…see. Well, my thanks, then, and you do us honor. And you, mistress Warden: atrast vala," our escort said. "Your presence is a mixed blessing. We honor our history with the Grey Wardens, but we'd also rather not have outsiders see our infighting. Still, your presence will be tolerated." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Unofficially, I am honored by your presence, but be careful while you're here, won't you?"

I finally turned around to see a heavily armored and fair-complexioned dwarf with an intricately braided gray beard speaking to us. Well, to Neria, although he looked a little uncertain about that.

Neria gave him a clumsy bow. "Ser…?"

"Call me Agmun [sp?]. Subaltern Agmun if you need to ask for me."

"Thank you, Agmun." Neria's voice was a tired and relieved. "I think you're the first person to be glad to see us in…weeks?"

Agmun crossed his arms on his chest and bowed. "I can't exactly say that we're glad to see you, but we honor the Wardens. And if you would, Warden, your name?"

Neria bowed back again. "I'm-" She stopped and sighed. "I am Warden Enchanter Neria. And this is Warden Alistair."

Alistair crossed his arms and bowed. "Atrast vala, Subaltern Agmun. I am honored to see Orzammar again."

Agmun nodded. "I thought you looked familiar."

Alistair looked apologetically at the rest of us. "I was here several months ago with Duncan."

"I remember the visit. Good human, the commander. I was surprised and sorry to hear about Ostagar."

"He was a good man."

"And a good fighter. Ah! Enough of that! If you find me off duty sit and speak with me of him."

"I'd like that."

"So would I. Now, Warden Neria. Who are the rest of the cohort?"

Neria made introductions as we started walking through the entry hall. I found enough of my voice to answer when Agmun spoke to me, but preferred to keep looking around.

Leliana said something too quiet for me to hear.

"This is the hall of the paragons," Alistair said reverently. "They honor the best of their ancestors here."

Agmun spoke up. "The most important of our ancestors. Not always the best, but you didn't hear me say that."

"Riiight."

"But at least you know our- Miss Warden! No!"

Neria was speaking to a closely shaved dwarf curled up in the shadow of one of the statues. She gave a Agmun a sharp look. "He's just hungry, and we have food to spare."

Agmun clearly thought about arguing but didn't. "There's a lot of hungry people in Orzammar, Warden. I don't think you've got enough food to feed the rutting lot of 'em." Shrug. "Do what you want though." He turned away from Neria and started walking. "Come on then." He strode swiftly towards a guard and spoke quietly, and got a nod in return. "This way, if you will."

I watched Neria dig in her pack and hand a couple of items to the beggar. Then she dug into her purse and handed him an unknown amount of cash. I shrugged to myself and followed Agmun down the long walk through the hall and into the city proper.

"Whoooooa."

I still have no idea where to start. The first thing that hits you is the heat and the smell. Sulfur permeates the air, which itself is slightly hazy. And it glows over deep trenches so the entire place has a reddish tinge to it. But the streets are lit by glowstones, so the place has a nice, homey rather than hellish feel to it. And it's warm. Very warm; almost uncomfortable. Not hot. I have no idea how they do it, but somehow the heat's deflected or vented or something so the dwarves don't end up roasting themselves. The buildings are carved directly out of the rock and curve away into the distance, and right in the middle of the cavern, directly in front of you as you walk is a massive hunk of rock that connects to the cavern ceiling some crazy height up. And there's multiple levels going around, each one set a bit back from the one below it. And it's a city, a living city; there's hundreds of dwarves walking about taking care of their business.

And the business includes hacking at each on the street. I was still gawking at the architecture and engineering when I heard a scream of pain and angry shouting from a crossroads of sorts in front of us.

"Ah, the rutting humpers are fighting in the streets again! Stay here!"

Agmun took off towards a crowd that was equal parts curious and hostile. Fortunately, given our heights, we didn't have to press forward to see what was going on. The city guards were pushing apart two groups of dwarves, but one them had taken a hit and was down. And as Agmun pushed apart the crowd directly in front of us we could see the badly injured dwarf lying there in a puddle of blood, his arms moving weakly.

"Maker! Wynne, come on!" Neria scrambled forward, still clumsy under her pack, and pushed her way through the opening in the crowd.

"Shit!" I took off behind Neria at a fast walk, but in front of Wynne. Time for the NCO voice. "Make room! Make a hole!" Size and volume counted for a lot; a few curious dwarves filtered in behind Neria, but I kept the passage open.

Neria slipped to a stop and went down hard but seemed okay. She pulled up a ball of energy and began working on the injured dwarf. "Wynne! I need help!"

Wynne pushed past me while pulling along a protesting Morrigan; I turned around to check the tactical situation. The rest of the group had followed me and set up a rough circle around the mages. The crowd was pushing in a little bit, but the overall mood had changed and seemed inquisitive and concerned rather than hostile.

"Topsiders?"

"What are they doing?"

"That's…not a human, is it?"

"Did he call them Wardens?"

"Why are they here?"

"Is the guard gonna be all right?"

"Are those mages?"

"Ooh, he's handsome for a human!"

"That's a topsider war dog!"

"Needs a beard, though!"

"Ser! Ser! Yeah, you! Are you Grey Wardens?"

"I am," Alistair answered.

"Atrast vala, Warden!"

That's just what I caught in Ferelden; there was a lot of dwarfish flying around, too. Alistair's answer got a lot of attention on him and he was soon dealing with his own crowd of curious and generally friendly dwarves. Sten has an excellent crowd control technique: he simply stood and glowered and ignored any questions that came his way. The crowd kept their distance from him, but pushed in around the rest of us to ask questions that we mostly couldn't answer.

And then, finally, one of the guards shouted, "He'll be alright!"

The crowd, which was by then a couple hundred people trying figure out what was going on, erupted in a roar that made my ears ring. I don't think the folks in the back knew what was going on, but they cheered anyway. I checked on the mages; all three of them looked tired, and both Neria and Wynne were pretty bloody.

Agmun was speaking to Neria and waving his arm and pointing. Neria finally answered to his satisfaction and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Some random guard slapped me on the hip and indicated I should follow Agmun. Despite the jovial crowd I figured that was the best course of action at the moment. We pushed through the throng with dwarven guards breaking the way and the mages inside a circle made by the rest of us. The crowd followed along in our wake; I could hear occasional chants of "Wardens! Wardens!" Somebody tried to shove a tankard into my hand, but they fumbled the handoff to shouts of laughter.

We finally got herded through a tall pair of guarded doors and into a curving stairwell. The doors were closed behind us to the disappointment of the crowd.

Agmun leaned against a handy wall. "Dirt and mud! We were supposed to be discreet. Well, nothing to say for it now. Come on!"

I held out an arm. "You okay?"

Wynne was pale and moving carefully. She took my arm without hesitation. "Tired. Dwarves are resistant to direct magic, and he was very badly hurt."

She'd spoken quietly but Agmun turned around. "He's glad for your effort. And so am I. On Booth's behalf, I thank you. All of you, but especially the mages." He offered Wynne that formal dwarvish bow.

We climbed the stairs and exited on a landing that gave us an excellent view of the city. Leliana stepped to peek out over the low wall; a cheer came up from below. She smiled and waved and stepped back.

"Don't worry yourselves; they're not allowed up here." Agmun kept walking.

"It is impressive, is it not?" Leliana said as she caught up.

"It is," I answered. I kept going without thinking. "Ironforge has nothing on this."

"Ironforge?"

"Uhm, a dwarven city I've, uh, visited. It's…grand in its own way, but not like this."

"Another dwarven city? Where?" Agmun's ears are _sharp_.

"A very long way away."

"How far?"

Second universe to the right and straight on till morning. "Farther away than my home, and I'll probably never get back there."

Agmun considered my answer for a moment. "The Shaperate'll wanna know about it. Talk to them if you get a chance."

"I'll do that."

"Come on, then."

We continued along the curving path, passing only a relative few curious dwarves. There's a handful of expensive looking dwellings with banners hanging on their front outside walls. It only took us a few more minutes until we stopped at a dwelling that didn't have a banner.

"Here we are," Alistair said. "The Orzammar Wardens' compound."

"Right." Agmun thumped on the door. "We'd ask you stay here for the night; we'll pass the word of your arrival and call you to the Assembly tomorrow."

There was a moment of silence then Zevran asked the question we all had. "And how will we know it is tomorrow?"

"When the Steward awakes, of course." Agmun pounded on the door again.

Another moment of silence. "And how will we know that?"

"Tell you what: you don't worry about it; let the housekeeper do that."

On cue the door opened. A dwarven woman with black hair shot through with grey opened it and directed her attention to Agmun. "Ser guard," she said with a firm but quiet voice. "How can-" She stopped when she saw the rest of us but focused on one person. "Warden Alistair?" She crossed her arms and bowed. "My lord, welcome back."

Alistair stepped up. "Everyone, this is Selda. She keeps the compound for us."

Selda nodded blankly. "That I do, but…. My lord, we weren't expecting…."

Agmun cleared his throat. "Good to see you've got this in hand. Rest well, all of you. And the ladies: I thank you again." A formal bow and Agmun left.

All eyes turned to Alistair. His eyes turned to Selda. She knew exactly what to do. "Lords, ladies, if you'd please…." She pulled the door entirely open and bowed to each of us as we entered. Once we were inside she reached behind the door and lifted a banner off the wall. "A moment, if you please." Selda stepped outside and hung the banner, and then came back in and closed the door. She bowed to us again. "Wanef's not here right now, but I'll show you to the rooms. If you've things that need mending or cleaning-" She gave Neria and Wynne a pointed look. "-set them outside your room and I'll see that it's done. The baths are in good order- "Everybody got a look at that. "-and there'll be a hot supper for you later. Now, if you'd follow me, please…." She turned and walked out of the room. We all stood there, just a little dazed at the events, so she stuck her head back around the corner. "Come on now. Oh, and welcome to Orzammar."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm taking some minor liberties with the geography of the area. Gherlen's Pass probably wouldn't be important enough to mark on a large-scale travel map unless there was something significant about it. Hence the fork in the road. My headcanon tells me the Orlais and Orzammar roads roughly parallel each other, and that the Orzammar road climbs into the mountains then drops back down to eventually meet the Orlais road again somewhere to the west._

_I'm also taking some liberties with the size of the paragon statues in entrance hall. The ones in-game look to be about ten feet tall; I figured doubling that would make a pretty impressive sight._

_I hope nobody minds the quick update. The last few chapters felt like filler to me, but there was stuff I felt I needed to do there. And I figured I'd done enough dithering around and needed to get the main plot moving again. With that, on to Ironforge! Er, I, uh, mean Orzammar!_

_Story shout out: please check out_ **Stars Fade** _by_ **totallybursar**. _And I'd like to give her a big thank you for letting me use the 'Ore's Hammer' transliteration for Orzammar on the road sign._

_And some milestones: 100 faves and 135 alerts, and coming up on 50,000 hits! Big thanks to_ **JayBetti, TreeWalker, Cataquack Warrior, Lady of 3ar, Random Asian Person, Kullken, paraeclipse,** _and_ **Jakyerski** _(and anybody I've missed) for getting me there!_

**Snowhelm:** _Thank you! I was beginning to think I wouldn't get any reviews for the previous Chapter 53. And I hope you're okay with not having to wait too long for this chapter._

**EmbertoInferno:** _Glad you liked and caught the references._

**Oplindenfep:** _SPOILERS: I can't say anything regarding the Anvil. Shale will be showing up but maybe not in the way anyone expects._


	56. Rep Grind

**22 August (day 66), morning**

I walked stiffly into the little library. I was hoping to find something to read but instead I found some company. "Hey, Wynne. Hey, Alistair."

She looked up from her book. "So you couldn't sleep either?"

"Not well. Kept waking up. Bed's too soft or something." I plopped down into a nicely cushioned chair.

Alistair stretched. "Too quiet for me. I can't even hear Neria snoring."

"She's next door to me," Wynne said. "I can."

"And it feels weird not having a guard."

I yawned. "Maybe that's what's bothering me."

Alistair gave me a _maybe so_ tilt of his head.

Wynne shook her head at us. "This building is carved out of solid rock and the weakest point is a barred metal door."

"Dwarves are excellent miners and stoneworkers," Alistair countered. "Who's to say they haven't dug a secret tunnel into the compound somewhere?"

"_That's_ what's bothering me."

Alistair chuckled. "Or maybe the bed's just too soft."

"I think you're right; that's definitely it."

"Ugh!" Wynne went back to her book.

I pushed myself up and went over to poke through the bookshelves and started when Morrigan stuck her head in the room. She took us all in, gave Alistair and me frowns, and then addressed Wynne. "I would speak with you."

"Now?"

"'Tis a better time than most."

Wynne frowned but assented. "Very well." She placed a marker in it then closed the book, stood, and reshelved it. "Until breakfast." She breezed out of the room.

Morrigan didn't say anything, but chose to give us both another frown before turning after Wynne.

Alistair gave me a confused look. "What was that about?"

I gave him one right back. "I have no idea." I turned back to the books but turned back around at Alistair's cough.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

I opened my mouth but Alistair beat me to it.

"And if you say they help you see better I'll make Selda put a nug in your bed."

I opened my mouth again.

"No, I don't know if she can get a nug, but I will."

I waved my hand in the 'get on with it' motion and crossed my arms.

"I want a serious answer."

"Okay."

"It's about Neria. I'm still take your hand off your face."

I didn't. "I thought you already took care of that." Seriously, I did. The pair had been spending more time talking together. Then again, that's all I'd seen them doing. No hand-holding, no hugging, no kissing. Definitely no tent sharing.

I could hear the sheepishness in his voice. "We've been busy."

"We haven't been that busy! What have you two been talking about?"

"Uh…the cheese supply, leggings, these big fish she saw…." The embarrassment continued.

I dropped the facepalm. "Actually, that's probably a good start. Just keep talking to her."

"What about?"

"Everything. Like you have been already."

Alistair's face suddenly got suspicious. "Really?"

"Really. Just talk to her and if she's interested she'll show it."

"How?"

"You know, I'm not really the guy you should be asking for advice on that part. Talk to-" I paused briefly as I ran through the options in my head. Nothing had changed from the last time we had this talk. "-Leliana. Although Sten's pretty objective; he might be able to give you some advice. I just don't know if it'd be good or bad."

"Sten? Really? I thought I asked for a serious answer."

"Unless you want to go talk to Zevran."

Alistair gave me a frown. "Hmm. I'll talk with Leliana."

* * *

><p>"Lords, ladies. The Captain of the Orzammar Guard would like to speak with you."<p>

We turned our attention from the little conversations we were having and looked silently towards the housekeeper.

Neria nodded as she finished chewing. "Please send him in," she mumbled.

Selda appeared confused. "In…here, lady Warden?"

Neria nodded again. "In here's fine. I guess you could set a place for him."

"Subaltern Agmun is with him, lady."

"Two places then."

Selda frowned and bowed. "Yes, my lady." She left the dining room.

Alistair leaned over and said something to Neria. I caught a couple of words: formal and protocol.

Neria responded with slightly more volume. "Well, maybe he's hungry."

A ripple of laughter swept down the table as Selda led in a pair of dwarves. Agmun, and a second, much younger looking dwarf with dark brown hair and beard. He was wearing fairly plain armor with brown inlays and what I assume is the Orzammar crest on it. He was carrying a simple round shield on his back along with a lumberjack style axe. The captain's equipment all looks well-made, but it's the functionality that defines it. And I have no doubt the guy knows how use it all. He took us in with sleepy eyes as Selda introduced him. Alistair stood as they entered; the rest of us followed suit.

"Lords, ladies, allow me to present Thrand, Captain of the Orzammar Guard, and Agmun, Subaltern of the Orzammar Guard. Captain Thrand, Wardens Alistair and Neria, and their cohort…." Selda introduced each of us in turn.

Agmun just nodded.

Thrand spoke with a no-nonsense and slightly angry voice. "Wardens. Cohort. Welcome to Orzammar." He didn't sound like he quite meant it.

The Wardens exchanged some glances before Neria finally answered. "Thank you, Captain." She waved at the plates Selda was putting into place. "Would you care to join us?"

Thrand and Agmun exchanged glances then the Captain nodded. "We'd be honored." The dwarves took seats and Thrand spoke again immediately. "Just so you know, Wardens, I've been ordered by the Steward to bring you to the Assembly later this morning. You can speak to them regarding your treaty."

Neria leaned in. "Will they even listen to us?"

"Hmmph. If it is a Blight like you say, well, that's a surface problem."

"Surface problem?" Sten asked. "How is a Blight not your problem?"

"Well, ser giant…."

Ah, nothing like plot and exposition for breakfast. I focused on eating; Selda's a good cook and the larder's decently stocked. Even the tea is semi-good; it's nowhere near as nasty as the regular stuff. I half-listened to the discussion as questions and answers about the Blight, and Orzammar, and the political situation flew around the table. I threw a comment in every so often, but almost nothing got said that's not covered in the various cutscenes and dialogue trees. Until….

"…and I've posted guards outside the compound with orders to let no one in unless the Wardens allow it." Thrand slurped down some dwarven ale.

"Wait," I asked, "are we in danger? From being here, I mean."

The Captain shrugged. "Probably not. But why take the chance? Oh, and, no one leaves the compound either."

A quiet protest went around the table.

"Are we prisoners?" Sten asked.

"Stone, no!" Thrand shrugged again. "Outsider movements are restricted right now. I don't have the authority to lift them."

"Who does?" Neria asked.

"The Steward, of course. Ask him about it when you see him."

"Of course."

"Of course, Warden." Thrand stood up and finished off his ale in one epic swig. "Now that the official part of the visit's over, let me get to the unofficial." He walked around the table and bowed then extended his arm to Neria. "I'm told you took the lead to help my man yesterday. I need to offer my thanks for that, and to also bring thanks from his family."

Neria reached for and gripped the dwarf's arm. "You're welcome, but Wynne and Morrigan helped. I…don't think I could have saved him without them."

Thrand nodded. "Very well." He walked over to the other mages and offered them the same courtesy he'd given Neria. Wynne accepted the thanks with quiet aplomb; Morrigan stood and formally returned Thrand's bow.

"And that's that," Thrand said. "Warden, I can't say that I'm glad to have you here, but maybe you being here'll make the deshyrs realize there's sand underfoot." He gave us a formal bow. "I'll be back to fetch you later. Enjoy your morning."

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

I have to say we all looked pretty sharp. Selda had returned cleaned and pressed clothing to us right after breakfast, and even our armor had been cleaned and polished overnight. Alistair dug out some Grey Warden tabards from the compound's stores; they're a beautiful deep blue with silver embroidery picking out a rampant griffon. Of course, only he and Neria actually wore them, but the rest of had clean, if somewhat stained and/or patched, clothing to wear for a change. In honor of (or homage to [or as another home verse joke that no one here would get]) I was tempted to dig out my rugby shirt and display the Gryffindor colors over my armor, but finally decided against it. Still, we washed up, kitted up, and stood up when Thrand showed up.

And then he shot us down. "Only the Wardens," he said.

"Captain-!" Neria started to protest.

"Sorry, Warden, but the Steward insisted that only the Grey Wardens be brought to the fore of the Assembly. Your cohort will have to wait here.

So instead of getting involved with the politics most of us got to poke around the Warden compound some more. I ended up in the armory and found myself a brand new crossbow. Excuse me while I go test it out.

Yep, still got it.

* * *

><p><strong>Early afternoon<strong>

Being confined to the compound is gonna put a damper on my plan, but I went ahead and got the first step under way:

"Selda?"

The dwarven housekeeper bowed to me. I'd already tried breaking her of the habit but she kept it up. "My lord?" She also won't call me by name.

"Who are the best smiths in Orzammar?"

She blinked at me for a few seconds. "Well, my lord, that would depend on what you want. Weapons, armor, furniture-"

"The best smiths. The three best period. Doesn't matter what they make."

"I'd have to ask around a bit-"

"Do it. Let me know when you've got the names."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Plot and exposition for dinner. And heartburn, too.

Neria and Alistair came back in a daze. The Assembly's tougher to deal with than even I'd considered and they literally got nowhere just asking for help, so they ended up having to visit both Bhelen's and Harrowmont's estates. And, of course, those two want our Wardens to do their dirty work for them. Looks like we might have to do things the hard way.

Oh, and Neria's a little ticked at me. Well, maybe not me directly, but she's certainly frustrated with the whole situation. "You told me they'd help! But they didn't! You know what they did do? Every house's speaker stood up and spoke-" Neria started rolling her eyes. "-in the most _glowing_ terms of how _honored_ they were to have Grey Wardens present. Every house. _All eighty of them._"

Wynne laughed gently. "And you thought sitting through all of our lectures was a waste of time. I hope you were at least able to keep your eyes open while you slept."

"You'd be proud of us both." Alistair's voice was holding back laughter. "Our heads didn't even bob."

Zevran nodded knowingly. "Too many sermons from the sisters?"

"And lectures, too, but from the Templars."

"Zevran! Alistair!" Leliana scolded.

I shrugged with my own frustrations. I'd been ambushed right after speaking with Selda. She'd gone to answer the door and returned with a fellow by the name of Mildrate. The guy's a high-level assistant with the Shaperate and he was there to see me. Mildrate, along with a couple of his scribes, sat me down for a grilling session that basically involved me spilling my guts regarding everything I know about Ironforge's geography, politics, and demographics. They were disappointed to find out IF is probably too far away to ever contact (much less visit), and were quite scandalized to learn how surface-oriented Azerothian dwarves are. OTOH, they are fascinated by the concept of hunters. They'll be back tomorrow for more info. Anyway…

I shrugged with my own frustrations. "I said they'd let us in the door, but I didn't say they'd just step up and help us."

"I believe," Sten stated simply from his end of the table, "you said they have their 'collective heads up their collective asses.' An interesting and apt metaphor."

Alistair snickered but put his hand out before Neria could say anything. "And Steward Bandalore agrees with that," he said. "But at least the Steward's a reasonable man – er, dwarf. He said that as of tomorrow we're all free to move about the city."

"But," Neria added at our collective sigh of relief, "everybody has to be on their best behavior. That means no fighting, no stealing, no spreading rumors or gossip about what we're doing here. Everybody understand?"

"Neria!" Wynne scolded. "Do you really think-"

"We attract trouble like a mage attracts demons!" Neria looked tired and discouraged. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to snap. It was a long day. Or whatever they call it."

"That's all right."

"And tomorrow we have to go back to the Assembly."

Alistair groaned.

So did Leliana, although her groan was a lot cuter. "You won't be able to come shop with us?"

Neria shook her head.

"That is too bad. Well, perhaps I shall have Morrigan accompany me."

The witch coughed. "I will not-"

"Oh, it will be fun! Neria and I had a wonderful time in the Denerim markets; you and I could have a wonderful time here."

Morrigan glared back at Leliana.

"Shoes!" Alistair said.

A spark appeared in the bard's eyes. "Ooh, shoes! Although, I doubt dwarven shoes would fit us. But we could look!"

Morrigan glared at Alistair.

Alistair leaned into me. "That thought should keep me going all day tomorrow."

I leaned back. "Hope so. Still sucks to be you, though."

"Wardens," Sten said, "I would accompany you to the Assembly. The Arishok will be interested to learn how the dwarves govern themselves."

Neria answered carefully. "We'd have to ask the Steward, but you're welcome to come."

"I thank you."

"Sten," Leliana teased, "don't you want to come shopping with-"

"I do not."

Neria went around the table. "Wynne?"

"I believe I'll visit the Shaperate, especially since Jeff is likely to be interviewed again."

"Jeff?"

A resigned frown and a nod. Although I do have some other plans.

"Morrigan?"

"I shall…shop."

"Zevran?"

"I'll explore this fair city and discover its charms. Don't worry: I will exercise both caution and discretion, and shall endeavor to not anger any fathers or brothers."

Neria narrowed her eyes. "I notice you didn't say uncles."

Zevran toasted her. "You are most perceptive, mio capo bella."

* * *

><p><strong>23 August (day 67), morning<strong>

"Oy?"

[resigned hiss]

"Yeah, oy."

We were looking at the entrance to Orzammar as it existed in the Fade. The gates were set much further back in the mountain. As IRL there were some windows and landings high up the mountainside, but there was an outcropping of rock that projected prominently between and below them. The total effect was that of a slightly sinister face staring at those approaching it.

As you might guess neither Thing nor I were very interested in walking into the mouth. But then, the thought process went, anything interesting that was going to happen would probably happen in there.

[questioning hiss]

I turned around but as far as I could tell the path from my bubble was gone. The road back down the mountain was there, though, and it ran in both directions. "I don't know. The tower turned out to be safe – well, safe enough, but…."

"You don't have to go in, you know." The voice was calm and Ferelden-accented. Actually, it had a light Scottish lilt to it, and belonged to a familiar redheaded woman wearing a t-shirt that read 'My Other Car is a TARDIS.'

Thing hunkered into attack mode while I brought the rifle to bear.

"You still haven't shown me how that works."

"You probably don't wanna find out."

D-Amy walked in a slow semi-circle around Thing and me. "I think you are correct. But you can relax. I'm not here to steal you from yourself."

Thing and I rotated as she walked. "If you say so."

[hiss]

"Ah, the bishgu. And where did you find it?"

"I think he found me."

"Nonsense! The bishgu do not simply..." D-Amy trailed off and tilted her head quizzically. After a few seconds she continued. "Subsist in this portion of the Fade."

[sharp hiss]

D-Amy bared her definitely not human teeth at Thing. I clicked the rifle to semi. At the noise the demon waved her hand dismissively and concealed the teeth.

I clicked back to safe and said so. "And just so you know: I'd feel a lot better if I didn't have to worry about you…well, whatever is you plan to do."

I got a closed-mouth smile in return. "I have no plans. I am simply curious."

"You'll pardon me if I don't believe that."

"You are pardoned."

I didn't have anything to say after that. Neither did Thing or the demon. We just watched each other quietly for a while. I (and presumably Thing) watched the demon carefully; it watched back with interest. It was a timeless moment that seemed to last for only a heartbeat, yet I suddenly somehow knew that a clock was ticking over somewhere.

"You see," it finally said as time spun back down to normal, "you didn't have to go in."

The sensation was one of sleepily looking at a still clock then suddenly noticing the second hand start moving again. "How did you do that?"

"I didn't, but that doesn't matter. You desired…safety when you arrived, did you not?"

"Still do."

"You found it. And you have it, but safety precludes your other desires."

Sarcasm mode. "And I suppose you can fulfill them?"

"Not at the moment." The demon shrugged. "Such as the moment is."

[hiss]

It ignored Thing. "Now, before our time is done, I have something for you."

"I don't want it."

"But you do."

"Not at the price you want."

"This is a gift. I offer it freely."

"Pardon me if-"

"You are pardoned. Again. Now simply awaken."

"What?"

"One…two…three."

A hand clap of thunder erupted from the demon's palms and I sat straight up in the too-soft bed in my quarters in the Wardens' compound in-

"Uh…."

I scrambled around and found my knife and made a reality check.

Reality? Check.

* * *

><p>"And that's it?" Neria asked. "She didn't try to tempt you with anything?"<p>

"I don't think so."

"You were given a gift by a demon of desire," Morrigan mused. "At least it said it had a gift for you. 'Twas not another book?"

I shook my head. "She offered a gift then woke me up."

Wynne leaned forward slowly. "And are you awake?"

Good question. "As far as I can tell. The Fade always seems a little off…a little less real than it should be. Or sometimes too real."

"You should act carefully." Morrigan's tone of voice was still distracted, though. "Your visits to the Fade appear to be causing a curious disturbance there. The attention you are gaining is troublesome."

Wynne continued her train of thought. "Are you sure you're awake? How can you tell?"

"I can't tell you how I do it, but I will say I'm doing the best I can."

Wynne bit her lip and shook her head.

Neria suddenly leaned forward and stared closely at me. The scrutiny was uncomfortably intimate. Then she whispered, "Just be careful. Please."

"I will."

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

Oy. The morning at the Shaperate was just as bad yesterday's interview at the Warden compound. Lots more questions about everything. It's interesting though: Mildrate does respect the inquisitiveness of the Explorer's League, but he also thinks hunting and ram-riding are just not proper dwarven pursuits.

I did dodge (I think) a question about my origins. Wynne rolled out a map of Thedas and asked me to sketch out where I'd arrived from. I thought about the problem for a moment then indicated some impossible distance from Thedas' eastern reaches. For perspective it was probably the equivalent of saying you'd travelled to Japan directly from England with no Americas in the way. Mildrate didn't even bat an eye at it; Wynne looked skeptical but didn't pursue the matter.

I did manage to break loose just before lunch. I took a walk down to the commons to stretch my legs and my brain. I'm not worried about getting lost; the guards give us an escort the moment we leave the nobles' area, but I think they wanna keep an eye on us as well as protect us, although I never felt threatened. Crowded, occasionally, by curious dwarves, but they generally want to know who the Wardens support. They're disappointed but not hostile when I tell them I don't know.

I didn't spot Leliana, Morrigan, or Zevran, but I did run across an interesting merchant's stall. There were a half-dozen beautiful stone chess sets placed out. The boards were stone as well; tiles inlaid into a wooden frame. I felt more than a bit of homesickness; Eric would absolutely love to have one of them. The kid just loves rocks, especially if they've been worked. He's not big on chess, but would go nuts over the set.

The stall owner pounced when he saw my interest. "Greetings, ser! I've got a number of items here that you above-grounders are always interested in looking at. And, if I say so, quite frequently buying as well. Ah, if only the succession were settled and you could come and go as you please. But you, ser: if you see something you like make an offer. Gotta keep the gold flowing, you know."

I let out a heavy sigh. I was pretty sure FedEx didn't have a pick up point in the Orzammar commons.

"Are you well, ser?" the merchant asked. "You above-grounders sometimes get stone-sickness from all the rock hanging over you. I don't understand it myself, but I suppose if I went outside I'd probably get sky-sickness from the lack of stone."

"Thanks, but I'm well. I was just thinking my son might like one of these."

"You have a boy? Then the Stone, or whatever you revere, has blessed you. Not that daughters aren't a blessing; I have one myself and I tell you the young lady is a sight to behold." The man – dwarf – puffed his chest out as he spoke.

"Well, two sons, actually."

"Are they good boys? My girl, she's a-"

I cut him off before he could get any momentum. "Yeah, they're good. Buttheaded sometimes, but what kids aren't?" I felt a wistful smile go across my face.

The merchant looked a little confused at the unfamiliar word. "If that means what I think it means, well, I understand. My little darling can get quiet headstrong at times. Why, just the other-"

"What can you tell me about these?" I waved at the displayed chess sets.

"You have a good eye there, ser." The merchant gestured me closer to the display. "It's a chess. That game you above-grounders like to play. The nobles like it, too, but I think that's because they like to pretend they're too good for the Stone. Well, they pretend that until-"

"Were these carved by hand?"

"Yes, ser! A nephew of a friend of my cousin's makes the pieces and you can see what a remarkable job he did with them. A patient lad he is; he cuts and carves and polishes everything by hand. The boy's got a wonderful feel for the stone and-"

I picked up a knight. Well, they use Mabari hounds instead of horse heads. The stone looked like green marble; it's carved in minute detail and was polished to a dull glow. It wasn't quite slick under my fingers; it had just enough texture to grip easily. "These are…exquisite, and you make sure the boy gets told. But do you have a travel set?"

"A travel set? Never heard of such a thing. Although if you'd be so kind as explain what that is I'd be able to tell you if I have one."

"A chess set, but-"

"Ah, it's called a chess set, not a chess, then?"

"Right. Anyway, a travel set…." I described the concept, even going so far as to explain magnetic pieces. The dwarven merchant got that gleam that I'd come to recognize as greed, but otherwise kept a pretty good poker face. At least until I called him out on it. "Now you wouldn't be thinking of taking these ideas for yourself, would you?"

He put on a look of affronted dignity. "Good ser! You wound me and my ancestors. Never would I think-"

"They're yours."

That shut him up. "Ser?"

"The idea for a travel chess set, or any type of chess set with magnetic pieces is yours. But you have to pay the price."

The affronted dignity was replaced by a figurative mask of haggling. "What would that be?"

For some reason the Warden compound doesn't have a chess set in it. Time to fix that. "I get this set and five sovereigns. But you also get me a travel set as quickly as you can; no more than three days from now."

"That's a tall order, ser. No offense. And five gold coins? Are you sure you're not-" He flushed slightly and cut himself off. "What I meant is what if these travel sets don't sell the way I'd hope? I-"

"Think of it as an investment. If they sell buy me a drink the next time you see me. If you don't see me again then drink to my health whenever you raise a cup. If they don't sell curse my name unto the seventh generation-"

The dwarf actually looked a little shocked at that. "I couldn't do that to your offspring, ser."

"Then curse my name soundly. And if do you see me again I'll give you back your money."

The dwarf grinned. "That I could do."

I grinned back. "Good enough. Do we have a deal?"

"I don't know that I could get you a travel set in three days."

"Do your best. I expect we'll be heading into the Deep Roads in a few days and I'd like to have a little entertainment with me."

"Deep Roads? Are you one of the Grey Wardens, ser?"

"Just a back-up sword arm is all. But do we have a deal?"

"I'll need to know your name to curse it."

I told him my full name. Hey, if he's gonna be cursing it why not let him have all six syllables?

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

"A dragon?" Morrigan asked. "Surely you jest."

Neria gave Morrigan an absolutely evil look. "Do I look like I'm jesting?" Her clothing was tattered, her staff scorched, and her hair was partially burnt off.

Alistair's look was just as evil. "We're not jesting." He wasn't as scorched, but his shield had some deep claw marks in it and the Warden tabard was toast. But I guess having a decent helmet saved his hair.

Sten's look was one of impatience. "It was indeed a dragon."

I was just sitting there thinking _WTF?_

"A dragon in the palace." Morrigan shook her head. "'Tis hard to believe."

"And yet it was so." Sten pointed to a patch of fresh, pink skin on his cheek. "I allowed the Warden to heal a severe burn it caused."

Neria huffed. "There were these…runed tiles on the floor, and they talked about the throne, and none of the guards knew what they were for, so I offered…." She shook her head. Some blackened hair fell loose. "There was a dragon – a small one – trapped in a space like the Wardens' chest. From Soldiers' Peak."

"And we released it," Alistair added.

"And slew it," Sten finished. "Although I fail to understand why a dragon would be imprisoned so. The dwarves must have had a burning desire to keep it at hand."

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

More plot and more exposition along with dinner.

"The treaty compels the _king_ to act and they don't have one." Neria's hair looks a lot better; Selda'd arranged for a hairdresser to stop by. With Leliana's help they managed to salvage most of it, although it's a lot shorter now. Neria's mood, OTOH, was still pretty bad. "Neither of the bastards…."

Well, you know. Or at least you should.

Neria gave us a pretty solid rundown of the situation then stared around at all of us.

"It is the Game," Leliana said simply. "It is being played under a mountain rather than in a palace, but it is still the Game."

"We must be prudente. Both sides will attempt to use us – well, you and Alistair – to their advantage."

"Well, we're already being used." Neria looked and sounded disgusted. "Harrowmont wants me to talk a couple of his Proving fighters into actually fighting and Bhelen wants us to deliver messages to a couple of nobles."

Alistair didn't look too happy either. "Don't know why-"

Neria went with her Templar voice. "Grey Wardens are favored by the ancestors and your hands aren't suspect. Hmmph!"

"Riiight. That was it."

"Is it wise of us to become involved in this?" Wynne looked worried.

"Probably not." Alistair said.

I jumped in. "But it's probably the only way we'll get things done."

"'We'?" Wynne asked.

"They're not interested in working this out." I rubbed my eyes and hoped I had time to pull off my plan. "They're looking for some…sign from somewhere to tell them who should be king."

"My lord is right." We hadn't seen Selda come in. "The deshyrs are afraid to act without a rock-steady sign from the Ancestors. And there's no need to apologize, my lord; you seem to understand the truth of the matter."

I gave Selda a nod of thanks.

Leliana spoke again. "Then should we act in favor of Harrowmont or Bhelen? Or should we remain impartial?"

"Won't matter," I answered, and continued immediately. "Unless we do something insanely important we probably won't change the voting balance enough to make a difference."

Everybody was quiet at that for a bit.

"So why do anything at all?" Neria finally asked.

All eyes came back to me. "Good question." I took a bite of whatever meat was hiding under the fairly tasty sauce on my plate. I chewed while I came up with an answer. "Because if we do this…small stuff they'll finally come out and tell us what the insane thing they want us to do is."

There were a couple of nods. Only a couple, but that was better than nothing.

Alistair suddenly sighed. "Well, if it's insanity they want they've got the right bunch."

Neria gave a little smile at that. "I suppose so." She rubbed her face. "I'm so tired. Let's…. Let's just worry about all this tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>Late evening<strong>

I was in the library futzing with the chess set when Neria fell heavily into the chair next to me. She was wrapped in a thick, warm-looking robe. She didn't really need it; the entire Warden compound is nice and toasty.

"I thought you were going to bed."

"I did. Cullen woke me up." She leaned forward to look at the chess set. "So, what kind of insane thing are we going to need to do?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because it seems like you usually know the answers."

Fair enough. "Probably something to do with a Paragon."

That earned me a double-take. "A Paragon?"

"Folks in the commons seem to think a Paragon should be choosing the king. Wait; I said that wrong. I think they think the Assembly would like to have a Paragon's opinion on things. That sign from the Ancestors Selda talked about."

Neria fiddled with a rook. (It's a ballista, though; not a tower.) "Makes sense. More sense than the entire Assembly being insane. Although that might be true, too." She was quiet for a minute then said, "Thank you."

"For…?"

"The chess set."

"You're welcome."

"Was it expensive?"

"No." I explained the deal I'd made for it.

Neria smiled at that. "At least we don't have to worry about coin with you around."

Shrug. "It's nice to be useful."

"You're more than useful."

Huh? I let the loaded comment hang.

But if Neria'd meant something by it she didn't follow up in the way I expected. "It's hard to sleep here."

That was definitely a loaded comment. I stayed quiet.

Neria followed by defusing the tension. "The nightmares: they're worse here. Alistair warned me, but…."

I was glad I didn't have to dodge any flirting. "Has meditating helped?"

"It did when we were outside, but the last two nights…."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Could we play chess instead?"

"Why not both?"

Neria gave me a hesitant half-smile. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p>I left Neria snoring (gently, for a change) in an overstuffed chair in the library and tried to stagger sleepily back to my room, but Selda pulled me aside before I got close.<p>

"My lord, I have the names you requested."

That snapped me awake. I cut Selda off before she could continue. "Who's the nicest?"

"My lord?"

"The nicest. Well, the fairest. The one most likely to give you a good deal and not screw you over."

"'Screw you over', my lord?"

"Try to cheat you, or even try to force you into a bad deal."

"Well, my lord, from what I've heard that would be Pollard. Of House Vernissa."

"What does Wanef think?" (He's the combination handyman and go-fer. Seems to be a smart guy, if a little grouchy.)

Selda looked confused. "I don't know, my lord."

"I didn't think you would. Well, let's go find out. But whoever it turns out to be I need to see them as soon as possible. Tomorrow if at all possible."

"Uh…."

"Just make it happen."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

><p>AN: Hope everybody out there has a happy holiday of their choice! Mine involves making lasagna, bread, and cheesecake, so I'll be busy with things other than writing for a couple of days. Oh, and I promised to have another chapter of **Stargate: Origins** up soon, so that might take a little time away from **MoN**. Don't worry; it'll only be a very little bit of time.

**EmbertoInferno:** don't know if Jeff will have anything to say about Balrogs. Ogres are bad enough, though, right?

**SnowHelm:** as always I appreciate the kind words. It made sense to me that Alistair would have visited Orzammar sometime prior to the events of the game, especially given what he has to say in-game as you're walking through the Hall of Paragons. I haven't decided how much of that background to actually incorporate into the story, though.

**alyssacousland:** glad you're back and enjoying the story, and I hope you're doing better. The DA:O Isabela was a pretty generic skin just slapped into place with a name attached; I really liked the more unique model from DA2.

**The Nemean Lion:** doing my best to keep the updates coming regularly.

**Yathandra:** Jeff hasn't been doing too much thinking about the Deep Roads, but, as you can see, he's doing what he can to avoid them.

**AD Lewis:** thanks for following and I'm glad you enjoy the story. I'm making a conscious effort to keep Jeff out of Gary Stu territory. I hope you (or anyone else) will call me out if you see me taking him that way.

**Delfin Jonte:** Thank you!

**great northern one:** As you saw Jeff didn't say anything about pallies or priests.

**Deo:** Holy epic review, Batman! But seriously, I appreciate the time you took write it and will take into consideration some of the ideas you discussed. I don't want to say more because doing so might lead to irrevocable spoilers, but I'm also just not sure where things would fit in yet.

**Grin-Grin:** Thank you, too! I've got a definite vision for where I'm taking the story, although a lot of details haven't been fleshed out yet. That's helped keep things on track regarding plot and characterization.


	57. Ground Down

**24 August (day 68), morning **

"…so gear up, Jeffrey. You're with me." Neria gave me the _you said I'm in charge_ look.

Sigh. "Yes, ma'am." Despite the hitch running around with her is gonna put in my plans I'm still part of the group. And Neria might need someone to stand in front of her.

Alistair's not gonna be able to do it. We're splitting the group in order to run these errands the contenders want us to do. Alistair's taking Wynne, Leliana, and Sten around with him; that leaves Neria with Cullen, Zevran, Morrigan, and, of course, me. Grumble. I didn't argue, though; I wouldn't have gotten anywhere and I would have revealed my plan. I'm not ready to do that yet.

So off to the Proving. Gotta go.

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon through evening<strong>

"Impressive, is it not, mio amico?"

My neck popped as I looked up at the column of rock that contains the Proving. "Yep." I still have no idea how it's done, but apparently the open space the city sits in was carved out around the tower.

Zevran thumped me lightly on the arm. "I was speaking of that sight." He waved his hand forward.

Neria and Morrigan were walking in front of us, talking quietly. Neria was wearing a fresh tunic and trousers: Morrigan was in slightly less than her usual scraps. It was a nice sight, but I gave Zevran a frown. "Why don't we stay focused on-"

"I am staying focused."

"-the task at hand." I deepened the frown I was giving him. "Didn't you say something about playing with fire once?"

"Si. But right now I am merely watching the flames."

"Just don't come crying to me when you get a finger burned. Or have your soul eaten."

"Don't worry; if either happens I will make certain to not trouble you."

LINE BREAK

The Proving Quarter (feels weird to just call it 'the Proving,' and 'the Proving Grounds' is already taken) feels like a Tolkienesque WWF gladiator movie set. Lots of sweaty, armed and armored dwarves walking around with adoring fans (both male and female) vying for attention from the fighters. The fighters were acting like celebrities from any other verse; some were taking the attention in stride while others seemed quite put out with the fanboys and girls getting in their way. We got our own share of attention as we walked through the place.

Well, Zevran and I did. His leathers and hair and knives drew some attention from both similarly-equipped dwarves and some fangirls. My gear got me some attention from the more heavily armored crowd. And Morrigan got attention as well, but for more obvious reasons.

_Smack!_ "I am not to be pawed as if I am a loaf at market." Morrigan's voice had the lack of heat that clearly indicated she was really ticked. She raised a hand with a ball of black energy in it.

The offending dwarf stepped back rubbing his face. "More like a-"

He didn't get a chance to finish; one of our escorts reacted before we could and stepped in to clock the dwarf with a truncheon. The grabby fellow went to his knees as the second guard turned to Neria. "Sorry about that, Warden."

Neria answered slowly. "I understand." She touched Morrigan's shoulder and whispered.

Morrigan let go of the power and leaned over the dwarf who'd groped her. "You are fortunate," she said in quiet voice that carried clearly. "Had I my way there would be little remaining of you." She whipped her head back around to Neria. "Let us do what we came for."

There weren't any other threats; in fact, the only thing I heard was some talk about how stupid the groper was. I had to agree with that. Morrigan's a dangerous woman. The unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on your interpretation of such) dwarf fell under the attention of more guards. He was dragged out of sight; I think he was lucky if he just got a good beating. Neria whispered firmly to Morrigan; the witch responded with something that sounded like, "No others are at fault."

But Neria didn't respond to that because she suddenly went wide-eyed. "Cullen! Put that down! Oh, Maker, I'm sorry!" Neria started towards a ruckus that I couldn't sort out but stopped and turned around to face me. "Jeffrey. Take Morrigan and find those dwarves; Zevran, come with me." She didn't wait for a response but instead dived into a crowd from which happy Mabari noises were emanating. At least she was easy to track.

Zevran had already chased Neria into the crowd. I had no idea what Cullen had done, but the guards assigned to us were lost in the shuffle and somebody was swearing in dwarven.

I gave Morrigan a confused shrug and said, "This way."

Morrigan glared back at me but decided I wasn't the target for her anger. A target maybe. "Very well."

We got clear from the crowd and made our way towards the prep rooms the fighters hang out in. "You okay?"

"I am well."

"Okay, then. Excuse me…." I accosted a convenient dwarf and got directions to Guidoan's [sp] and Basil's [sp] quarters, but was only able to find Guidoan.

He's a red-haired, scarred, and beardless dwarf wearing some heavy-duty scaled armor and was packing some gear into a sack. He's pretty intimidating, too, but his voice was quiet and calm and bitter. "Human? You one of the Wardens I heard about?" Then he looked past me to Morrigan. "Woo."

I moved to cut off line of sight. "There's a Warden here with me but she's in the entryway right now."

"So you're not a Warden?" I got an once-over. "Too bad. I wouldn't mind testing myself against one." Shrug. "But I've resigned from the Proving. The Ancestors won't be favoring me."

"And that's why I'm here."

That earned me a suspicious look. "What do you mean?"

"You've probably heard some rumors about Harrowmont, uh, surrendering his claim to the throne."

"Yeah, I have. That's-"

"They're lies."

Morrigan jabbed me in the back. Well, she would have except my armor got in the way.

Guidoan ignored the _clank_. "My source is very reliable."

"Mine's better. I got the info straight from Dulin."

"Really?"

I thumped my fist into my chest. "Really." Well, not really; Neria had briefed us on the mission, but Guidoan didn't need to know that.

He nodded. "I…suppose there's nothing Lord Harrowmont would do without consulting Dulin."

"You're absolutely right about that."

The dwarf growled. "I try to stay out of politics and look what it gets me. If I find out some…flunky of Bhelen's lied to me, I'll…."

"Go bust some heads?"

Guidoan's snarl changed to a wicked grin. "Maybe I'll do just that." He stepped up and slapped me on the arm. Even through the armor it was like being hit with a meaty sledgehammer. "Rutting schemers! Not you! You seem to have some honor. I've gotta go get my name back on the master's list. Get your name on that list and we'll face each other down in a friendly."

I would have rather given a belly rub to a honey badger. "Maybe I'll do that."

"You do it." He thumped me again and turned away. "Hey! Guidoan's back in the Proving! Outta my way!" He disappeared into the entry hall to some approving yells and a couple of jeers.

"That," Morrigan said, "was surprisingly easy." She wasn't looking at me; she was staring down a dwarven woman with the physique of a light tank.

Thinking back it _was_ surprisingly easy, but I wasn't about to argue with the results. "The guy wants to fight. And he wants something to fight for. Something bigger than himself. Uh, no pun intended."

The dwarven woman had been attempting to stare down Morrigan but her eyes but flicked to mine at my words. A smile crossed her lips and she flipped a hand axe into the air. It spun a few times then the handle _smacked_ into her palm. She gave me a quick wink then went back to trying to intimidate Morrigan.

"And, uh, it's good for Harrowmont's side's morale. Knowing Guidoan's in the fight. And if the other gets back in, well…."

I trailed off as the dwarven woman responded to a wordless yell with a sharp exclamation in dwarfish. She nodded to Morrigan and broke eye contact, walked past me and smacked me on the leg with her own meaty sledgehammer, winked at me again, and jogged down a ramp.

Morrigan chuckled. "So, who will be jealous?"

"You?"

"Not in the least."

I chuckled. "Come on. Let's-"

"A moment. You said Guidoan wants to fight for something bigger than himself. Do you truly believe that?"

"I do."

"And you believe that such an inspiration is important?"

"Yes. Why?"

"And you: what do you fight for? Is it bigger than yourself?"

I've already figured that out and didn't hesitate when I answered. "The group."

Morrigan needed a few seconds to digest that. "Not for Ferelden? Not to end the Blight?"

"Those are goals. Good goals, but not why I fight."

"So you fight for…Neria?"

Nod. "And Alistair. And you, if necessary. Sten, Wynne-"

"The bard?"

"Yes."

"The elf?"

"Well…yes!"

Morrigan smirked. "The dog?"

"Sure."

"And yet, if you had to sacrifice a member of our company, whom would you choose?"

I got a chill. "Our mission is to end the Blight. The Wardens are needed for that. Necessary. Their…survival is always priority one."

"That was a most dispassionate answer."

It was. "Why are you asking this now?"

"'Tis a better time than most." She crossed her arms; the action pushed up her breasts, but I only noticed that academically. "I would know: Alistair or Neria? Whom would you choose?"

I knew what she was ultimately asking but answered slowly and deliberately. "That is an unfair question."

"You have the experience to know life asks unfair questions. And you also know it is how we answer them that makes us worthy." Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "So: the daughter or the brother?"

Oy. Morrigan. She has her own agenda. I'm not sure if it's completely hers or partially or completely her mother's. But here in a while Neria's got a decision to make. And I have no idea what the ramifications of that decision are. But from what I know of Neria right now I think she'd have Alistair go through with it simply because I don't think she'd be able to stand losing him. But oy again. Morrigan's trying to figure out how I'll impact things. And it's a good question. Assume things don't go as expected and I do have to make that choice. Save Neria only to lose her later? Save Alistair for Morrigan? But the third option will rear its head, and Morrigan will have a chance to fulfill that agenda.

I opened my mouth to answer then closed it. I ran through my thoughts in a just a few seconds and came up with the same answer I got while writing this. "I don't know."

Morrigan kept her eyes locked on mine for a short eternity. "I believe you." She reached up and pulled a feather free from her shoulder. She reached for me and _tsked_ when I flinched. "_This_ will not hurt."

I had alarm bells going off. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you my favor." She looked past me and gave a nod.

A meaty sledgehammer hit my lower back. "Alright, topsider! You and me in a friendly right now!"

"Hey! Uh-!"

Guidoan yanked me down the ramp the dwarven woman was coming back up. She gave me another wink when she saw me.

Morrigan laughed. "Fight for _me_!"

* * *

><p>"…and, as usual, I won more than I lost."<p>

Laughter ran around the table as Zevran finished explaining how he made money betting both on and against me. Sten even narrowed his eyes; that's a chuckle for him.

Zevran looked at me. "Ah, mio amico. Don't be angry. I even offered to share my profits."

I glared back at the elf. "You know I could have lost my arm!"

"No, it was a friendly incontro. At worst you would have lost more blood than you did." He glanced to Morrigan. "And our bella obscura was there to care for you."

"And I'm sincerely grateful for that."

Morrigan smirked. "My attention was barely needed."

I glared at the witch. "If I recall correctly Guidoan couldn't see because of the blood in his eyes. _My blood_!"

More laughter.

I glared at Wynne. "Even you?"

"I can't always be the mature adult."

"Maybe I should dig out the razor and try shaving again. Y'all should get a huge laugh out of that."

"My lord," Selda said quietly, "that won't be necessary. I can recommend a barber if you'd like."

It took a while for everybody to calm down.

Neria finally stopped laughing. "Huh. Well, the Proving Master was impressed. He wants us all to fight. Unfortunately…." She looked at Alistair.

"Lady Dace wants us to deliver a message to her father in the Deep Roads." Alistair shrugged. "But if we do that he'll switch his support to Bhelen. From Harrowmont."

"But the Proving was to help Harrowmont." Neria sighed and frowned. "So who are we supporting?"

"Should we support anyone?" Wynne asked.

"If we do not," Leliana answered, "the succession may not be decided in a timely manner."

Neria repeated her question.

"This Harrowmont," Zevran said quietly after making sure Selda wasn't in the room, "appears to be a weak leader. He couldn't even inspire his own men to fight for him."

"Or would not," Sten grumbled.

"But Bhelen- Maker's breath!" Alistair shook his head. "He supposedly killed his brother and set his sister up to take the blame."

Leliana and Zevran started speaking at the same time. Leliana flushed slightly.

Zevran kept going. "A well played hand, no? Of course, in Antiva the Crows would have been involved, but here…." Shrug. "One works with the resources at hand."

Wynne was scandalized. "You find that…admirable?"

"He shows determination, cunning, and skill." We all turned to look at Sten. "These appear to essential traits necessary for success in dwarven politics."

"Well said, mio amico grande."

"And," Sten continued, "Bhelen appears to be willing to dismantle the caste system. While it has its merits, the system has consigned a significant portion of Orzammar's population to a life of mere subsistence. This is an inefficient use of their most valuable resource."

Wynne frowned at the giant. "But if the rumors are true…."

"Then he's a murderer. At best," Neria finished.

"And Harrowmont," Leliana said, "has the loyalty of those for whom tradition is paramount. He is an…uncomplicated man-"

"A nice man, from what I've heard," Alistair interrupted.

"This is true, but even as king he may not inspire the dwarves, but merely rule them. But he will do so fairly."

Sten spoke again. "A fair and just leader is vital to a people's well being."

Oy. As glad as I was to have the attention off me I didn't really wanna listen to the group go around in circles about the succession. But they did a couple of times, and would have probably kept going if I hadn't jumped in. At least until the food ran out. The problem was I couldn't remember how much wiggle room we had until we had to commit to one side or the other. But I dived in anyway. "Alistair. How long will this trip to the Deep Roads take?"

"Two, three days, maybe. The thaig's not too far away and the road leading there should be in good shape. At least, that's what Duncan told me. Why?"

I spoke slowly so my thoughts could keep up with my mouth. "You make the trip to this place and that gives us a couple of days to find out more about both candidates. Contenders. More rumors, more good info, and by the time you're back we'll have a better idea of who we should support." Not that it'd make a difference anyway. But it would give me a couple extra days to do my thing.

"But if I do that," Alistair objected, "we'd be undercutting what we're already doing for Harrowmont."

I shook my head. "It's just a couple of votes. It won't matter much if we change our minds."

"But what about you. Yourself?" Alistair asked. "Who do you support?"

"I'd have to lean towards Bhelen." He's a true bastard in the colloquial sense of the word, but he seems to be better for the dwarves in the long run.

Alistair stared at me and nodded. "Thought you would."

Neria looked around the table. "So…," she pointed at me first. "Bhelen."

Alistair voted for Harrowmont.

So did Wynne.

"That is not my decision." Sten's proclamation was a surprise. "And, were you to press the matter, I would state that I am undecided."

Morrigan spoke coolly. "As am I. I would know more of these contenders for the crown before I chose either."

"I would lean towards Bhelen as well; he is the stronger leader." No surprises from Zevran.

"I agree with Zevran," Leliana said simply.

"And from what I've heard I like Harrowmont." Neria looked frustrated again. "Well, at least we'll have a chance to go talk to Dulin again tomorrow." She looked around the table. "Maybe he'll be able to change some minds."

Alistair looked frustrated himself. "So maybe we shouldn't go into the Deep Roads."

"No," I said. "You probably should. We probably need the goodwill from Bhelen. Even if we don't end up supporting him."

Neria mumbled out of a full mouth. "That's not a bad idea. But…should we try to play both sides?"

"It would not be easy," Leliana said. "And perhaps we should not. After all, we have much more to do and not as much time as we would like."

"I concur," Sten added flatly.

"So who will we support?"

"No!" I said rather sharply. "We are not going round on that again! We need to figure out which side we're supporting, or play both sides until something shakes out."

"Shakes out?"

"Until…something happens…." I shook my head with frustration while trying to explain the idiom.

Neria nodded. "I understand." But suddenly she was wearing her Warden face. "So then we support Harrowmont." She nodded at Alistair. "He does, I do, and we're the Wardens." She looked around the table, but focused on those of us who supporting Bhelen. "Objections?"

There weren't any, but I let the conversation go on without paying much attention. I was and am thinking I'm gonna have to push my own agenda through as fast as possible.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

I looked at half-home/half-fort in front of me. I could smell charcoal burning. "Is this it?"

"Yes, my lord. House Vernissa. And they're expecting us."

"What about Pollard? He's the one I wanna see."

Selda nodded slowly. "I think he's expecting-"

"You think?"

"I- I couldn't get anyone to confirm he'd see you himself. My apologies, lord."

Sigh. Very heavy sigh. But sometimes you have to run with what you got. "It'll have to do. But if they don't listen to me then we'll try the next name on the list."

"Don't…listen to you?"

"I have some information that's very valuable and it needs to get into the – well, good hands. Somebody who'll use it wisely."

"Rather than greedily?"

"Exactly."

"Very well, my lord."

* * *

><p>I got through the front door without any real trouble. It was getting to see Pollard that was the problem. Selda spoke to the doorman on my behalf; we ended up waiting in the foyer for a longer than comfortable time until the housekeeper escorted me back to an office containing a black-haired, stubble-chinned dwarf.<p>

"The name's Bergen. What do you want, topsider?" His tone of voice wasn't polite so much as it was 'hurry up and quit bothering me.'

"I was hoping to talk to Pollard."

Bergen looked me up and down. "Pollard's busy. You can talk to me."

"No, I need to talk to Pollard." Before the dwarf could jump in I kept going. "I've got information that…could enhance your house's status. It could probably make a paragon."

That was the perfectly wrong thing to say. Bergen's face turned red under the whiskers. "You know," he growled, "we're tired of you topsiders coming in here and making light of our Ancestors and our traditions. Just cause you're taller than us doesn't mean you have that right."

I gave the dwarf a seated bow. "I completely agree, and I apologize. I spoke poorly without considering my words."

"Hmmph. At least you got a touch of honor. Now get out."

I dove in deeper. "I want to give you the formula for blasting powder."

Bergen had been ready to yell at me some more. "Dirt and water! Take your rutting topsider arse and get-" He stopped yelling, glanced at my book, and then looked back at me and yelled some more. "Out! Now!"

I'd already written, in large letters, the formula for gunpowder in the back of my journal, along with the potential applications. I'd held it up and it caught Bergen's eye. He either didn't care or didn't recognize the formula. But as he yelled again as I calmly closed the book

"Are you gonna walk out or do I have to have you thrown out?"

I stood up. "I'll walk out. Last chance, though."

I got a death glare in return.

I inclined my head to Bergen. "Thanks for your time."

"Sod off!"

* * *

><p>"I take it things didn't go well, my lord?"<p>

I nodded to Selda. "You could say that. Who's next?"

"That would be Lamond, of House Raska [sp?]."

"Lead on."

Selda hesitated. "He's…not expecting you, my lord."

"Well, can we swing by and arrange a meeting?"

"I suppose so, my lord."

That approach proved to be more effective; I've got an appointment tomorrow morning that I probably won't need to keep because of what happened next. Selda and my guard/escort and I were making our way back through the commons when I heard a voice I'd hoped, but hadn't expected, to hear again.

"The lost man, father!"

"Sandal?"

Yep. "Enchantment!" Sandal started hopping up and down.

"Master Jeff!"

"Bodahn!"

"Good to see you again, ser!" Bodahn reached out and clasped my hand. "I'd heard the Wardens were in the city, but I haven't permission to come to the Diamond Quarter."

"Enchantment!"

"No, boy, not enchantment. Just luck."

I gave Bodahn a huge grin. "I'd say! How have you been?"

Bodahn smiled back. "Very well, ser. We left Tenby a few days after you did; it was safer to wait. We'd word of you on the road, but heard you were heading to Denerim. I certainly didn't expect to find you here!"

"We did make a trip to Denerim, but we needed to come here for the dwarves' army." I snorted. "Not that there's much of one."

Bodahn leaned in towards me and spoke quietly. "It's times like this that I'm glad I'm a surfacer. No offense intended, mistress." That was said to Selda.

Selda stared back with tight lips.

Bodahn shifted under the stare. "Maybe this isn't the best place to talk about this."

Given the surrounding dwarves who'd suddenly switched to sullen I was inclined to agree. "Tell you what…."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

"Bodahn! Sandal!" Neria was happier than I'd seen her in a few days.

Actually, everybody was happier than I seen them in a few days. Except for maybe Morrigan. And definitely Sten. Oh, and Wynne and Zevran had no idea what was going on. Okay, everybody who knows the dwarves are happy to see them. And Wynne and Zevran both joined in the mood. How's that?

"Puppy!"

Oh, and Cullen's happy, too.

We didn't really discuss anything of consequence; just a rehash of our adventures. Bodahn didn't tell us anything we didn't already know rumor-wise, but he's been in Orzammar since just before they locked down. He's got a pretty good feel for what's going on here. And, maybe more importantly, he had something for me.

Bodahn gave me a small bow and spoke with less energy than he normally does. "I'm sorry to pull you aside like this, but I've always found it good practice to not mix coin with company." He pulled a small pouch out of a pocket and held it out to me.

I'd almost forgotten about the deal for the car jack. "What's this?"

"A share of your profits, of course."

Duh. I shook my head and took the pouch. It was heavier than it looked. "Thank you."

Bodahn gave me a wide mercenary smile. "You're quite welcome!"

"So did you sell the idea or are you having folks build these for you?"

"A little of both. Erlind – he's the head of House Dam –"

"Dam? As in…?"

"Holds back water."

My brain spun in a quick circle. "I take it there's an interesting story there."

"There certainly is. But as I was saying, Erlind recognized the potential of your device and set his apprentices to work on it. We've got our own…financial…arrangement; we're just waiting for the gates to open so we can start selling."

I opened my mouth and let it hang. I'd just had a ding moment and needed to follow up on it. "This Erlind: he's a smith?"

Bodahn didn't notice the change of topic so much as my expression. "Well, yes. Of course. Are you alright?"

"Is he a good one?"

Bodahn nodded. "He made the first copy of the lifter. Took him a while to work out the screw but he managed to do it."

"You think he'd be interested in another business proposition?"

* * *

><p>"Sandal, it's nice to see you again."<p>

"There's still no cake."

"Maybe next time. But can you answer a couple questions for me?"

"Enchantment?"

"Maybe. You said I'm lost?"

"You're lost."

"Do you know how it happened? How I got lost?"

"Enchantment and not enchantment."

"I don't understand."

"I do. And don't."

"You understand the enchantment part and don't understand the not enchantment part?"

"Yes!"

"So what happened to me?"

"Enchantment! And not enchantment!"

"All right. Uhm…so do you know how I could get home?"

"This is home."

"I mean back to my home."

Sandal opened his mouth but nothing came out. His hands fluttered about then his expression changed to that of Rain Man right before a meltdown. "I…can't…." His hands and fingers just kept flicking around as if he were...

Ding. "Are you trying to…show me how to go home?"

"Yes." Sandal's voice was suddenly strained. "Can't point." His hands fluttered some more and his face was tightening up.

"How about this way?" I pointed both hands at each other and pushed my fingertips together.

Sandal relaxed a little. "Almost."

I gave him an apologetic smile and clasped his hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You're nice. But still lost."

Sigh. "I know. But I don't suppose you could just tell me how to get home?"

Sandal relaxed some more. "Follow the rope."

"How do I do that?"

"Not enchantment!"

I chuckled with frustration. "Never mind. I know there's no cake, but Selda might have pie."

Sandal's face lit up. "Is there pie?"

"There might be."

"Enchantment!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: hope everybody had a nice Christmas and Boxing Day!_

_Story shout out: please give _**Blight & Bliss **_by _**SnowHelm**_a look and let her know what you think._

**Macman6453:**_ Thank you. I'd hoped to get Thing into this last chapter, but he should be making an appearance in the next._

**Phygmalion:**_Jeff mature? His wife wouldn't think so. :P But, in all seriousness, despite the joking around he does he does shift gears when the occasion calls for it. And, as you can see, he does worry about the impact he has or will have on events._

**Matalvis:**_ I do remember you! Jeff doesn't pop into the Fade with a gun in hand, but he only needs a few seconds of thinking to summon the weapon. His clothes are pretty much he's been wearing: a tunic and trousers or, less often, jeans and a t-shirt. He's very rarely wearing those when awake in hopes of preserving them. And no, he can't bring anything "physical" back from the Fade. Thanks for sticking with the story!_

**SnowHelm:**_ Morrigan, as you know, has her own agenda, but there's also more going on behind the scenes that Jeff's not privy to. And don't forget: Step 3 for Jeff is profit. Step 2 is the tricky part, though…._


	58. Onion Rings and Other Things

**25 August (day **_**69**_**), morning**

"Sixty-ni-ine, dude!"

I guess it's a milestone of sorts (and my third favorite integer), but it'd be better if there was someone to help me celebrate it. Not that I'm in a bad mood. Running into Bodahn and Sandal definitely improved how I'm feeling. Plus the purse he gave me had the equivalent of over twenty sovereigns in it. I gave half to Neria and stashed half the remainder. Not that I know what I'll be spending the rest on.

Anyway…

Despite Sandal's cryptic statements I slept damn good and woke up feeling good. Then, of course, I opened up this bad boy to update it and discovered my day count. That brought a smile to my face and I must have looked a bit deranged while editing (for dramatic effect, of course) yesterday's mega-entry, because when Selda brought me some tea and toast she just smiled and backed away slowly.

And then Alistair walked into the dining room. He should have just smiled and backed away slowly. "Sixty-nine?"

"Yep!"

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not." I went back to writing.

Alistair's curiosity fought with his trepidation, but the curiosity finally won out. "I'm probably going to be sorry, but tell me," he said resignedly.

I snickered. "Sixty-nine is two people giving each other oral sex at the same time."

Alistair started turning red at the word 'sex' but hung in there. "Wait, oral…?"

I nodded. Sagely, I hoped. "As in with the mouth."

Confusion quarreled with embarrassment. "But- Wait- How does-" His eyes widened. "Oh, Maker!"

"That is a beautiful shade of red."

"I knew I'd be sorry."

"Sorry about what, my lord Warden?" Selda had heard us talking and showed up with a cup of tea for Alistair. I don't if she'd heard the topic of conversation, though.

Alistair coughed. "Jeff was…explaining something to me."

My smile was so cool butter wouldn't melt in my mouth.

Butter wouldn't melt in Selda's mouth, either. "It sounded like nug curling, my lord."

I could see him fighting the curiosity but he lost again. "Nug curling?"

She spoke with that same no-nonsense tone she uses to say everything. "It's when a couple of dwarves – or, I guess, any people – curl up top to bottom. Like nugs trying to stay warm. I don't care for it myself; there's too much going on. My lord. Would you like toast or porridge or both?" And her expression was completely innocent.

"Oh, Maker, you too?"

"He'll have both."

"Yes, my lords." Selda bowed to both of us and headed back to the kitchen.

I held it in until Selda left the room then started chuckling.

Alistair finally stopped turning magenta. "This is not how I wanted to start my morning!"

"Hey, you asked!"

"You tricked me!"

"I warned you!"

"Not well enough!"

"Hey! Don't ask questions if you don't wanna know the answers."

"The answer to what question?" Wynne strolled into the dining room.

"Oh, Maker, no!"

Wynne glanced back and forth between us but finally focused on me. "Jeff, what are you doing to Alistair?"

"Giving him some information that he was silly enough to ask for."

Wynne frowned at that, then nodded to Selda as she came back into the room with Alistair's food. "Selda, if you would please, I would like tea and porridge."

"Yes, my lady."

"Now, Jeff, with what information were you tormenting Alistair?"

I snorted and barely kept a laugh from escaping.

"I believe they were discussing nug curling, my lady." Selda maintained her professional exterior and zipped into the kitchen.

Alistair moaned and put his head in his hands. The only thing keeping him in the room was his breakfast.

Wynne looked at me. "Nug curling?"

I explained.

Enlightenment leapt on to Wynne's face. "Oh! Noses-to-nethers."

I grinned. "Really?"

"Really. What do you call it?"

"Sweet Andraste, Wynne!"

"Alistair! I _am_ a wo-"

"But…you're…-"

Wynne's face went tight and she spoke deliberately. "Think very carefully about what you're going to say next. Young man."

Alistair just shuddered.

"So, Jeff: what do you call it?"

"Gah! No more!" Alistair snatched up his porridge and fled.

Wynne watched him scurry out of the dining room. "So what _do _you call it?"

"Sixty-"

There was a crash from the hallway. Leliana's voice sang out and Alistair stammered. A moment later the bard dragged the blushing not-Templar back into the dining room. She had porridge on her boots; he was holding an empty bowl.

"What," Leliana demanded, "are you doing to poor Alistair?"

"Leliana, please. No."

"I was just explaining sixty-nine to him."

"Sixty-nine?" Wynne looked thoughtful. "Yes. I can see it."

"Sixty-nine?" Leliana asked.

Alistair dropped the bowl on the table and clapped his hands over his ears. "Not listening! La-la-la…."

"Noses-to-nethers."

Comprehension dawned on the redhead's face then she bit back a giggle.

Selda came back in, took in all of us, and carefully blanked her face. She gave Wynne her breakfast then observed the others. "I'll just set out the pots and a loaf." She went back to the kitchen.

I heard slobbering from the hallway right before Neria staggered in. "What's all the noise?"

Another moan from Alistair.

"Apparently," Leliana said, "Wynne and Jeffrey were explaining noses-to-nethers to Alistair."

Neria plopped down in a chair. "It's overrated."

"I do not think so," Leliana said with a slightly naughty smile.

"You have to remember," Wynne said, "that any…liaisons in the Tower tend to be…rushed."

Neria nodded. "Not enough time to really enjoy it if you try something…too complicated."

Leliana looked thoughtful. "I had not considered that. But surely there is some privacy?"

Neria shrugged. "Not enough. At least not enough to disrobe. Usually."

Leliana went from thoughtful to interested at somewhere near lightspeed. "So you just flip up your robes and…?"

Alistair made a break for the kitchen. The ladies didn't notice or didn't care. I leaned back to just listen and hopefully learn a few things. Guys'll be crude when they're talking about sex, but it's been my experience that women can get really nasty. Cullen came trotting in; I slipped him a buttered crust without losing too many fingers, and then he went to clean off Leliana's boots. I sat and listened while Selda shuttled out more food; after the last trip she bowed and left with a smug smile on her face.

"…oh, please," Wynne snapped, "Anders is a whore. He said so himself."

"But Petra said he makes sure the ladies finish first."

"There is something to be said for that," Leliana said distractedly. She seemed to finally notice me and frowned. "Enjoying yourself?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes."

Neria looked at me as she'd only just noticed I was there. She turned the same shade of red Alistair had and buried her face in her mug.

Wynne considered me carefully. "He's been sitting there the whole time. Don't blame him if you've said something embarrassing."

Leliana looked at me with maybe a hint of irritation and but definitely a touch of delight. "_I_ am not embarrassed."

"I am." Neria's voice echoed out of her mug. "Why is Jeffrey in here anyway?"

Shrug. "I started the whole thing?"

Wynne could barely hold back her laughter. "He was explaining noses-to-nethers to Alistair for some reason."

"We call it sixty-nine." I held up my diary. "And today's my sixty-ninth day in Ferelden. Anybody wanna help me celebrate?"

Sadly, but not unexpectedly, there were no takers.

* * *

><p><strong>Early afternoon<strong>

"So mio amico, you have never heard of the congresso de corvi?"

Leliana snickered and gently bumped my arm. I gave her a questioning look; she responded by smirking and nodding towards Alistair and Zevran.

Alistair looked confused. "Con gresso day…?"

Zevran shuddered. "Ah! Your accent is terrible. No matter. 'Congresso de corvi;' the meeting of the crows."

"I'm not sure I follow…."

"Of course you don't; I was told you fled the discussion in the dining room before-"

"Sweet Andraste! You too?"

"You were expecting something else from me?"

"That's…actually a good point. But never mind! I don't want to talk about this?"

"But mio amico [something Antivan], who will help me celebrate Jeff's sixty-ninth day?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"I have." Zevran looked back at me.

I pantomimed punching him in the teeth.

Zevran turned back to Alistair. "Jeff and I; we have come to an understanding…."

Sten stepped up behind Leliana and me. "I do not understand. Why is your sixty-ninth day in Ferelden significant?"

Leliana jumped in before I could. "The number, as written, resembles two people ow!"

Neria had snuck up behind Leliana and Gibbs' slapped her. She got me at the same time. Hard. Zevran was also rubbing his head. "Enough! All of you!" She looked at me and flushed. "Especially you!"

"I didn't start it this time!"

"Warden, I do not understand the topic being discussed. Do you have a moment to discuss it?"

"Maker!"

* * *

><p>I'm not sure if Neria was able to further enlighten Sten during the walk to Tapster's, but I'm positive Morrigan was. Anyway….<p>

Our plan for the morning was to talk to Dulin, then swing by Bhelen's estate and let him know we're supporting Harrowmont. Then we found out Dulin was at Tapster's so we headed there. The place is dim, smoky, and reeks of a combination of skunked beer, fried grease, and sweaty dwarves. The ceilings are low enough that even I have to watch my head in places. I'd rather not think about the sanitation. And the wait staff is surly. So why's Dulin hanging out there? The place has got the best selection of topside beer in Orzammar and has the connections to keep it coming despite the locked gates. But despite being here only a couple of days I've learned one thing for sure: the worst topside beer is better than anything the dwarves brew with their 'traditional' methods. Don't get me wrong, though; the dwarves are excellent brewers if given good ingredients from above ground, but if offered a lichen ale I'd rather drink a tankard of moose urine.

Neria and Alistair made their way towards the back of the building. (Is building the right word?) The rest of us hung out near the front.

Sten caught my attention. "Yet another thing I do not understand. Are these dwarves participating in some type of mass suicide?"

I shrugged. "Depends on what they're drinking."

Sten rumbled.

"Come on. Even you have to appreciate a good beer."

"Strong drink and intoxication are forbidden by the Qun."

"What about weak drink?"

Sten rumbled again.

"How 'bout if I have one?"

Another rumble, but he added, "Do as you will."

I ended up buying a round for the entire group, plus a few of the dwarves who happened to be at the bar when I ordered. For the record: Sten had a hard (but not too hard) cider; Morrigan (probably wisely) refused to touch anything in the place. But I guess I found something to spend some coins on.

I took my fairly decent but definitely too warm brown ale and headed towards the room the Wardens were meeting Dulin in. It's in the very back of the tavern and seems be cut directly into the stone. But when I got there a couple of guards stopped me.

"No entry."

"I'm with the Wardens."

Snort. "Like that's hard to tell. But Dulin's orders. Nobody goes in."

Zevran was leaning against a nearby wall holding a glass of wine. He nodded and soundlessly said everything was okay.

I nodded back to the elf then addressed the dwarves. "No problem. Can I buy you two a round?"

"Thanks, but another time."

A second round (on the house) and some onion rings (the recipe was traded for the beer) later the Wardens came out of their meeting. Alistair looked worried and Neria looked confused.

"Let's go."

We headed back to the Wardens' Compound but the mood was a lot tenser. No laughing, no joking; just some quiet talking about the sights. We regrouped back in the dining room, but only after Alistair checked the building for other occupants. He found Selda and sent her out to run her daily errands then barred the door behind her.

"Okay," he said, "we're alone. Neria?"

"Maker." She shook her head and stared at the table. "I don't even-" She cut herself off.

Alistair still looked worried. "Go ahead."

More looks around table; confusion, worry, curiosity, interest. No fear, though, except for Neria.

She finally spoke again. "We talked to Dulin. Not long, but…. He, uh, asked us why we'd delivered lies on Bhelen's behalf. The papers Vartag wanted us to deliver…. Well, according to Dulin they're forgeries."

"May I see them?" Leliana asked.

"We gave the one to Lord Helmi, but we showed Dulin the one we showed to Lady Dace. He didn't want to look at it; he said it's as good as an original, but said if we checked it at the Shaperate they'd tell us it's forged."

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"And do you believe this?" Wynne asked.

"I don't know."

"We're planning to stop by the Shaperate later," Alistair said. "But from what I've heard of Bhelen I believe it."

Leliana spoke again. "And your offer of support to Harrowmont…? Will they accept it?"

The fear stayed on Neria's face. "He said we have two choices: either sod off and support Bhelen openly, or pretend to work for Bhelen but truly support Harrowmont."

Alistair spoke quietly. "I'm assuming we still support Harrowmont?"

Neria looked back at him. "I do! And I'm guessing you still do. Especially after this!"

Nod. "I do."

Neria's fear was replaced with worry. "Dulin told us to go ahead and take whatever actions we were going to take, but if we still support Harrowmont to report back to him."

"We've, uh, already explained about going to the Deep Roads. Dulin actually agreed with you, Jeff; it's only a couple of votes. But he thinks the Daces - and others - will be outraged enough to switch their votes back when they find out about the forgeries." Alistair shrugged. "I guess we're taking that trip after all."

Morrigan actually looked a little. "This will not be a safe course for us."

"It will not," Leliana agreed, "but Harrowmont – or at least his man – also knows how to play the Game. This is a good sign if he is to become king."

Neria gave her a startled look. "You still support Bhelen?"

Leliana nodded. "I do."

"Even after-"

"Even after learning of the forgeries, yes." She gave a little shrug and smiled regretfully. "The Game is not for the faint of heart."

Neria just shook her head at the bard. "What if Bhelen asks us to…I don't know…actually attack Harrowmont?"

"He would not act so openly, and we should warn Harrowmont of such. But we must take care to not have ourselves manipulated into such an act."

Neria just shook her head.

Leliana leaned forward and spoke earnestly. "Neria. Trust in us. We are your friends and companions, and though some disagree with your choice, we will all follow you. And support you."

A quiet chorus of assent went up.

Neria actually looked relieved at that. "Thank you. Everybody." Her face hardened up. "But remember: not a word of this to anybody. Nobody can know we're really supporting Harrowmont."

Alistair leaned back while shaking his head. "This is why the Grey Wardens aren't supposed to get involved in politics."

Sten rumbled. "This is why the Qunari designate a clear order of succession."

Neria looked at Alistair. "So…our plan is to…make the Deep Road trip? When will we leave?"

Alistair leaned forward again. "I don't think everybody needs to go."

"Are you sure?"

Nod. "I think so. Lady Dace provided me a map; I've already checked it against the maps in the library and it's not too far past where I've been before."

"So who will you take?"

Alistair thought for a few seconds. "Those who were with me yesterday, but you instead of Wynne."

Wynne leaned forward. "Why not me?"

"We-ell…Neria's a Warden and a good healer, and she's not as-" Alistair snapped his mouth shut.

"Not as what, young man?"

"Uh…."

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

Selda was perceptive enough to take a message to Lamond to reschedule my meeting with him for tomorrow. I haven't heard back from Bodahn yet, but if Erlind doesn't move quick Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I should offer this info to two houses.

The final decision is for Alistair to lead Sten, Wynne, Leliana, and Morrigan into the Deep Roads. It took some talking but we finally decided Neria should hang back in case one of the contenders (or somebody else) absolutely needs to talk to a Warden. (And, if the worst happens, the rest of us can go for help in Orlais.) They'll be heading out sometime tomorrow morning; they spent the afternoon buying supplies. Food, mostly; apparently the Deep Roads are warm and dry and most outdoor gear just isn't needed. The rest of us will be going to see Vartag right after the others leave.

And then we'll be reporting daily to Dulin; he wants us to meet him at Tapster's. Of course, we have to set up our own pattern of going there, so in the interest of operations security I grabbed Alistair after dinner. "Come on; we're going down to Tapster's for a pint."

Alistair grinned at me. "A pint? It comes in pints?"

I thought about it for a second. "You know, I think you're right. I don't think they have mugs that small."

* * *

><p>Tapster's was literally wall-to-wall with dwarves and the occasional non-dwarf. I even saw a kossith sitting near the door. And the crowd was heavy even out in the street. We didn't even try to get in; we let our escorts recommend another tavern.<p>

"What are onion rings?" one of the guards asked as we walked away.

"Damn tasty," I answered.

* * *

><p>"Cheers," Alistair said.<p>

"L'chaim," I responded.

"Atrast vala," our dwarven escort called.

The four of us hoisted our mugs (all of which were definitely larger than a pint) and drank. It was topsider beer but nowhere near the quality of what I'd had earlier. It was, however, better than moose urine. Debatably. At least it was better than the local stuff.

And it was free, so that probably improved the flavor. The owner'd complained about all the business going to Tapster's because of some new topsider food they were serving so I redressed the dissimilarity in his business plan. The owner got to eat the first batch and immediately refunded the price I'd paid for the first round.

After the drink we each snagged a ring and crunched away. The beer in the batter makes a difference; they're not as good as rings from Tapster's, but they were hot and salty and the onions were strong enough to make my eyes water. Yum. Although I'm paying for it now.

"Yer, right, Warden! These are damn tasty!"

The guards grabbed their plate full of rings and stepped away to give us some privacy. Alistair shifted uncomfortably on his too-low chair as he watched them leave.

"Try putting your feet up." There were plenty of spare chairs in the designed-for-dwarves tavern. There wouldn't be once word got out about the onions.

Alistair rearranged himself as he spoke. "Why us?"

"Why us what?"

He sighed as he kicked his feet up. "Why are they watching us and not the other surfacers?" He spoke quietly; we had some space but the place was quiet.

"That, mio amico, is an excellent question."

Alistair scowled. "Don't do that!"

I winced. "Sorry."

Smile. "It's okay. But why us?"

"Don't know. But I could guess."

"So could I."

"What's different about us?"

Alistair thought while chomping on an onion ring. "We're the Wardens. Well, I am. And Neria, too."

"And what was the first thing that happened when we got here?" I grabbed a ring for myself.

"Maker, these are good! We talked to the Assembly." Realization dawned on his face. "We're…we're a…we're a…. I don't know how to say it."

"An unknown variable? A game changer? Something completely different?"

"Exactly! We're changing the succession game." He glanced over at the guards. "So are they keeping us safe or themselves safe?"

"Why not both?"

Alistair nodded philosophically. "Why not?" He glanced around again then leaned forward. He motioned me forward then whispered. "Why Bhelen? I mean, I can see why Sten would support him. If Sten would support anybody, but Leliana seems…too nice for that. You're practical, but you're too nice, too." He shrugged. "Zevran I can understand."

"Why do you think?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Bhelen's such a hard man-"

"And you don't think Harrowmont is?"

"Well, he is, but he's…not…as…ruthless."

I nodded. "You…might be right about that. But you've heard the talk. He's mired in tradition. He doesn't want to change anything. Bhelen's willing to do that."

"But why's that important?"

I took a long deep drink to compose my thoughts. "The dwarves. They're dying," I said. "They're dying off, and they're fighting over the scraps of their own corpses."

"Oh, that's a lovely image," Alistair said.

I ignored him. "The whole society is a zombie."

"What's a zombie?"

I kept going; I think Alistair got the idea, though. "It's just going through the motions of life, and doesn't realize it that all it needs is a headshot to put it down. If that happens, it falls apart, and the dwarves..."

"What about them?"

"They'll just end up being short Fereldens. There's a rich culture here, but it's in decline." I shook my head sharply. "No, it's fallen, and I don't know if it can get up on its own."

"I think I understand," Alistair said slowly. "But we Fereldens have always accepted the dwarves as equals; I don't think we'd treat them like we treat the elves."

"But are you willing to send an army into the Deep Roads for them? Even if you were the king of Ferelden and were willing, how many arls would be? How many of your troops would be willing to go? Don't answer that!" I waved my hand in some indeterminate direction. "Even when there's no Blight the darkspawn just keep bleeding them." I took another hit off my beer. Ugh, it was nasty stuff, but after a while you don't care. The trick is getting to that point.

Alistair's eyes were a little wild, but otherwise he didn't react to my slip; if it even was a slip. "You're drunk."

"Not drunk enough. Doesn't mean I'm not right, though."

"But what does this have to do with Bhelen?"

"Come on, Alistair. I know you're smarter than this."

"Well, I know he's talking about eliminating the Castes. And making more agreements with the surfacers." He snorted. "With us. Doing what he can to…." Alistair trailed off and thought again. "To give his people a place to go if the worst happens. But sweet Andraste! The way he's going about it! Is that…right?"

I shook my head. "That's a good insight there, but I don't think he's that altruistic. Uh, selfless. I think he does want what's best for his people, but he wants what's best for him first."

"But Harrowmont does, too."

"Yes, but…?"

Alistair huffed and bit his lip and nodded. "Harrowmont's scared of change. Bhelen's not. Harrowmont would bar those doors and shut everybody in darkspawn or not."

I nodded back.

"All right," Alistair said, "you haven't convinced me, but I'll think about it."

"Fair enough." We both leaned back in our chairs; I felt my back creak from the awkward angle. "When did it get so crowded in here?"

Alistair grinned. "Probably when they found out they have onion rings here, too." He drained his mug. "Come on, let's go home."

* * *

><p><strong>26 August (day 70), noon<strong>

We bade the Deep Roads expedition a quiet farewell. There was no animosity between Alistair and me, although there was a little concern.

"Be careful out there," I said. "I mean it."

Alistair gave me a nod and a cheesy grin. "Just keep those two-" He nodded to Zevran and Cullen. "-out of trouble."

"What about Neria?"

"She'll figure out a way to find it."

Recollections of Denerim sprang to mind. "I'll keep it from finding her."

Alistair _clanked_ me on the shoulder. "Good luck with that."

"Are you two fighting again?" Neria tried to look cross but wasn't getting there.

"Just saying farewell."

"Well, be safe." Neria leaned in and despite the bulk of his armor managed to give Alistair a hug and a quick kiss on the lips. She whispered something to him.

Alistair blushed. "It's okay," he mumbled. "See you soon." He pushed, gently, away from his fellow Warden and sighed. "See you soon. All right! Let's go!"

A guard opened a walkthrough door and we watched the group head out. Alistair's going because of his experience and knowledge, albeit limited, of the Deep Roads. Sten's going to satisfy the Arishok's curiosity. Wynne and Leliana are satisfying their own curiosity, and to maybe watch over Alistair. Morrigan, as always, has reasons of her own. The door closed behind them with a quiet _thump_.

"Given your inclination to write about all you see I'm surprised you didn't go as well."

Shrug and a frown. "I don't ask questions if I don't wanna know the answers."

Zevran smiled. "A saggio philosophy, mio amico."

* * *

><p>The dwarf seated in front of me was short and stocky even for a dwarf and had that sleepy look one associates with mob hitmen or just really bored people. He has long black hair tied into an intricate ponytail, but a very short and neatly trimmed beard. Makes sense; a long beard would just get in the way at the forge.<p>

I only talked to Lamond for about ten minutes. I'd gone in, been introduced, and took a seat across from the fellow at a table in his workshop. He took water but offered me a beer; I took the water as well. And then, like I did with Bergen, I dived right in. Although this time I was a little more circumspect in my approach. "I apologize right now if anything I'm about say offends you. Or your Ancestors. Or anybody you know. Trust me when I say any of that would be from ignorance on my part."

Lamond considered me with eyes so dark they looked black. "Yer wit da Wardens," he said flatly. The accent was almost Chicagoan. Pure coincidence, I'm sure. And that's the last time I'll transcribe it.

I wasn't wearing my armor although I did have my weapons with me, but there aren't too many humans walking around Orzammar right now. "I am."

"And you're the fellow Bergen wants to kill."

Swallow. "Don't know about that. I did manage to offend him."

"So I heard. Wanna try to offend me?" The voice and the expression was still flat, but there was some curiosity in the eyes.

"I've got information that could enhance your house's status. Maybe even make you a Paragon."

Lamond narrowed his eyes and frowned, but took a slow, deep breath that he let out evenly. "That was a rutting good try. No wonder Bergen tossed you out."

"I apologize if I offended you, but-"

"Sod it! I should toss you out myself!"

"I'm sorry, but if you could explain what I-"

"Just shut your rutting mouth for a bit." He leaned forward; the sleepy look was gone and was replaced by something dangerous. "Stupid inbred stack of meat. I don't have the time to explain what you did; just don't say anything like that to anyone else and you might get to walk out of Orzammar with your balls attached. Are we clear here?"

I choked out one word. "Crystal."

Lamond actually smirked at me. "Shiny answer." He took a long drink of water and the sleepy expression was back. "I've got some stock heating and have to be back at the forge shortly. You make your offer before need I do that. I'm listening."

I needed some water to get my voice working again. "I, uh, have the formula for uh, explosive black powder. I'd like to offer it to you along-"

The sleepy expression disappeared again and was replaced by shock. "You're jerking my sack!"

"I'm serious."

"And what am I gonna do with that? Start mining instead of smithing?" He muttered something in dwarven. "I-"

I raised my hands and my journal. "Hear me out. Please. There's more to it."

"There better be," he growled.

I pulled a loose sheet of paper out of the book and put it on the table. "Here's the formula; can you read it?"

Another growl. "I can read!" Lamond took a look. A long look. "That's it? That's the secret the Mining Caste keeps so dearly? Topsider, if you're yanking-"

"Write it down if you want. Make a batch and test it. Shouldn't take long. But don't take too long."

"I'll have to think about it."

"Don't take too long," I repeated. "I'm supposed to be meeting with another smith about this."

"Who?"

I thought for a few seconds then gave up the name. "Erlind."

Lamond nodded. "He's a decent smith, but he's got his bunch working on some topsider widget. It's gonna make him-" He stopped as some thoughts dropped into place behind his eyes. "You gave him that widget."

"I made a deal with a third party that ended up working out in Erlind's favor."

Lamond took another look at the paper. "Can I keep this?" His tone changed from confrontational to conciliatory.

"No. But you can copy it if you want."

"I'll…remember it." He shook his head and stood up. "I have to go. But I wanna know: why are you giving this up? If this is genuine you could make your fortune topside with it."

I ignored the 'if' part of his question. "The powder's important, but it's how it's used that's more important." I pointed to a rough diagram I'd made on the paper.

"What's that?"

"If you want me to come back I'll tell you about it then. I will say that it's called a shotgun."

* * *

><p><em>AN: the 'congress of the crows' is the Kama Sutra's term for sixty-nine. When I found that out I _had_ to have Zevran say something to Alistair._

_I do have a request for all you DA trivia gods out there: aside from Garahel are the names of the specific Wardens who ended the previous Blights known? I've done some digging but haven't been able to come up with anything. If somebody can point me in the direction of the info (if it's even out there) I'd really appreciate it._

_Shout outs: thanks to all the readers and reviewers out there! And there's a new group of followers and favers as well: _**Hoppette, ReaperScion, Ixil the Royal Melon Lynx **_(there's gotta be a story about that screen name)_**, Grin-Grin, **_and_** Older than Time, **_among others._

**Oplindenfep**: _Sandal is…let's say interesting. I've read a few stories about him on FFN and they've given me something to think about regarding his origins and abilities. My headcanon tells me he's [REDACTED DUE TO OH-HELL-YEAH THIS IS A MAJOR SPOILER – _**Beta Reader**_]._

**SnowHelm:** _You're quiet welcome for the story shout out. The group interactions aren't especially tricky, but the thing I find frustrating is the number of characters I have to deal with. Every time I think I've finally given someone some long-awaited screen time I realize there's someone else I've neglected. The group scenes give me at least a chance to give each character a line or three. Possible writing tip: I've created a numbered list of the characters and will occasionally roll an appropriate-sided die to determine who'll be in a scene or who'll have the next line in a group scene. It's not the best method, but it works for me._

**Phygmalion:** _The friendly Proving match was something that just jumped on to the page, but I liked it, and so did_ **Beta Reader**. _And I think it reinforces Jeff's feelings that he's not in total control of his fate. The bit with the lady dwarf warrior is an example of _Never Delete Anythin_g. I'd written a very rough draft of the scene as a little standalone but realized it would fit perfectly in where it did._

_MINOR SPOILERS: My headcanon tells me that the formula for blasting powder is a closely held Mining Caste secret (on average less than one person per house), and that a lot of the maneuvering among those houses deals with either obtaining or discovering or refining that secret. Jeff has his reasons for giving that secret up to Smith Caste, and is worried about letting Sten know what's going on. But if you take a look back you'll notice that Jeff has already 'planted' the formula for black powder and its uses; but there's a question of whether it'll be found._

**AD Lewis:** _Alistair still needs some time to harden up. Remember, he understands the basics about being a Grey Warden but hasn't quite embraced that 'anything to stop a Blight' ethos. Give him a little time, though. WRT Neria: Jeff's only seen what he's seen. The two are close, and Jeff's pushing Alistair towards the romance, but there's still no real solid idea on the outcome to that._

**InsidiousAgent & bigstupidjellyfish1337:** _High praise; thank you! MINOR SPOILER: Jeff's a bit concerned about the impending Qunari invasion but you'll soon see his primary thoughts on gunpowder. And Bhelen is a right sonofabitch, but he's probably the best hope for the dwarves._


	59. It's Alive!

**27 August (day 71), morning**

Went to bed last night and all I could think about was that special hell. And when I got to sleep I ended up dreaming that I was in a movie theater trying to watch the film but everybody kept talking too loud for me to hear the movie. And when I complained they shot me with popcorn fired out of cannons. And then, finally, I fell into the screen and…

"Cousin It?"

[unreadable hiss]

"No, wait…!"

* * *

><p>"I don't understand. Lurch?"<p>

I shrugged at Neria. "Never mind. For whatever reason Thing wasn't there and…his…replacement wouldn't let me go anywhere. He didn't hurt me, but did scare me a little."

The young mage scowled at me. "If we ever go to wake you up and find an abomination instead…."

"Trust me: I'll be just as upset as you will."

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Look, you're a healer, and a good one, right?"

"Not as good as Wynne, and you saw happened when she healed herself."

"I doubt anything like that's gonna happen."

Neria took a look at the length of wood in her hands. "And should I use this? I mean, it…feels…dead."

I nodded slowly. "That's so you don't accidently zap me."

"You mean like this?" Neria assumed her 'cone of cold' stance and hit me with a blast of refreshingly cool air. She gave me a cheesy grin Alistair would be proud of.

"Zevran!"

"Mio amico?" He was standing next to Neria leaning on his own staff.

I held up the wooden practice blade I was planning to use. "My real sword, please."

Neria stopped grinning. "I see your point."

Zevran chuckled. "Now, if you're ready…."

About fifteen minutes prior to that the three of us (four if you count Cullen who was under the table gnawing on something) had been talking around the lunch table when Selda mentioned the Compound seemed lonely with everybody else gone. She was right about that, but then she mentioned something about Neria and the other mages defending themselves from darkspawn and that got me thinking. Morrigan's sparred with me and the others a couple times using her staff and, once, a dagger, but neither of the Circle mages have.

"Neria," I asked, "do you ever fight – physically, as in trying to whack somebody upside the head – with your staff?"

She jerked her head to watch to the doorway then dropped her shoulders and huffed. "'You can take the mage out of the Tower,' Wynne said once…." She shook her head. "No. We weren't even allowed to talk about it."

"Truly?" Zevran asked.

Cullen groaned from under the table but none of us slipped him anything.

"Truly. They used to let the mages cross staves but that stopped before I got there. Somebody actually attacked a Templar once. And made a good go of it, at least from what I heard. And since there was no magic used the other Templars didn't know what happened until too late. Ever since then we haven't been allowed to…- Well, much of anything. We couldn't even run in the halls." Neria suddenly jumped up from the table. "You know what? There's no Templars here!" She shot out of the room and skidded into the hallway.

Cullen jumped up and scrambled after her. Zevran and I stayed where we were. About thirty seconds later Neria shot giggling past the doorway with Cullen right behind her. Just after that there was a crash and a squeal, and few seconds later a breathless Neria skidded back into the dining room and collided with the table.

"Now," she panted. "I know- Why we're not supposed- To run in the halls. You think- Selda'll be mad?"

About thirteen minutes after that Neria had to answer another question. "It's a stick. It's…wood."

"Right," I countered. "And a spear is…?"

She rolled her eyes. "A knife stuck on the end of a staff. Your point being…?

We'd been looking for staves to use in the sparring cave (can't call it anything else), and in the little armory we'd found what Zevran called a Nevarran dragon spear. It's a slightly shortened staff with a curved blade attached to one end. There's a counterweight in the blunt end; the balance is almost that of a plain staff.

"Neria," I said, "check this out." I gave her a wicked grin as I held up the spear. "You'd be totally badass with this."

"You're insane!"

"That might be a bit advanced for her." Zevran had his own wicked grin but was holding a pair of staves. "Perhaps for the next lesson."

"You're both insane!"

About thirty minutes later Zevran and I were only just warmed up, but Neria was sweat-soaked and panting for real. She had a padded shirt on, but there had to be bruises up and down her arms and on her torso, and her trousers were probably hiding more on her legs and hips.

"I," she huffed. "I- Need a bath-."

"And," Zevran said, "someone to wash-"

Neria whipped her staff around; Zevran blocked it with a _clunk_.

He bowed to Neria. "Another time, perhaps."

"Not likely." Neria handed me her staff and ungracefully turned to wobble away. But as she left the cave she stopped to lean against the door frame and called back to us. "That was- Fun. Let's try- Again tomorrow." Then she disappeared with Cullen slowly following.

"So, mio amico, would you care to spar?"

"If you're talking about with _these_ sticks-" I gave the elf a nod. "-let's rock."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

The three of us (freshly scrubbed) and Cullen (not so much) headed out for our rendezvous at Tapster's. The plan was to duck in, grab a beer, pass a message to Dulin, and head back out. Pretty simple, and pulling it off turned out to be easier with the crowd. Zevran simply worked his way around and slipped a note (that didn't have much to say) to Dulin. A little while later a note got passed back that read something to the effect of 'Understood and carry on.'

At least that's what the others told me happened; I wasn't there to see it.

"Is that your amico Bodahn?"

Neria looked up from the polished stones she was browsing. "Yes! Bodahn! Hello!"

"Hello, Mistress Neria! And how are you are faring today?"

"I'm well." She was; a warm bath and some skillful healing magic had taken away the bruises. She let me and Zevran keep ours, though. "Where's Sandal?"

"Thank you for asking. He's fine; he's napping right now. And it's good to hear you're well." He shifted a little uncomfortably. "It's a happy circumstance that I ran across you; I was actually coming by to speak with Master Jeff."

"Really?" Neria gave me a confused look.

Zevran gave me a suspicious one; Cullen scratched and gave me a hungry one.

"Is this about the jack?" I asked.

Bodahn nodded slowly. "Er, yes. Erlind would like to speak to you; he's some questions of you regarding it."

"Well, uhm-" I looked to my companions; they were still confused, suspicious, and hungry, but none of them objected. "-okay."

"Very good! If you'll come with me we'll head there straightaway…."

It took a moment for our escorts to sort themselves out; I waited while they did. The guards are just doing their job and doing it well. They're giving us space to move about and do what we want/need to do, but sticking with us closely enough that their presence is always felt. At least they're not following us into the Compound, although I think Selda's been feeding them. Not that anyone's complaining about that. Especially the guards.

"Jeffrey, are you sure…?" Neria still looked confused.

"Yeah. You two go ahead and I'll catch up. Lead on, Bodahn."

"Right away!"

The walk took us a little while but we finally reached Erlind's place. The guard stationed himself outside and I followed Bodahn in while ducking through too-low-for-me doorways. I got a few odd looks, but no more than usual, at least until we'd made our way to the forges and anvils. Practically everybody stopped working when I stood up and looked out across the shop.

"Bodahn! Is this your topsider?" A brown-and-gray haired dwarf came strolling up. Unlike Lamond he had a short beard with two long braids, although at the time the end of the braids were tied or clipped back behind his neck. He regarded me with a pair of curious light brown eyes and held out a hand. "Erlind, smith, House of Dam, at your service."

"Jeff, scout and soldier, at yours." I bowed slightly then took Erlind's hand.

He had a stereotypical grip. Most of my knuckles cracked when he squeezed. "No House name? Family name?"

"Uh…." I was still thinking _ouch._

"Eh! Don't worry about it. You have your secrets; I can respect that. I've got my own. Wanna see one?"

"Uh…." I don't know what I was expecting but Erlind's energy wasn't it.

"Hey! Everybody!" The few dwarves who were still working looked up at the shout. "This is the fella who made you rich!" Before anybody could respond he shouted again. "Now get back to work, you sods! Bodahn, you stay here." Erlind still had my hand; he gave my arm a yank. "Come on!"

We weaved around the busier parts of the workshop; I was trying to take in things while avoiding burns and crushing injuries. Most of the dwarves had started working again but some of the items they were crafting looked familiar. As in I used to have a similar device in the back of my car familiar.

"Now, topsider-" That was said as I ducked through a doorway into a small but well-equipped shop. "-that's a clever device you have. Had. Finely crafted and nicely assembled. This-" He waved at a table that held the jackscrew and a what looked like a couple of really good copies of it. "-was the hardest thing to duplicate. But I have a question for you: how'd you make it?"

"I didn't."

"In truth?"

"In truth. This was some of my gear I was travelling with. I sold it to Bodahn because I needed the money. The coin."

Erlind nodded his head. "That's what Bodahn said. And you're obviously no smith. So what else you got? I know you got something."

I thought about the Swiss army knife in my pocket but didn't say anything.

"More secrets, huh?"

"You could say that."

"I did say that. I wanna know if you'll say that."

"It's not really a secret, but…." Why was I keeping the knife a secret?

Turns out Erlind wasn't talking about the knife. "That's not what Lamond said."

I don't know why but I was definitely not surprised at that.

Erlind laughed at my lack of expression. "Remind me never to gamble with you. He said you showed him something; something you were gonna meet with me about. What is it?"

I needed a minute to think about that. At first I thought I didn't really want to just spread the black powder formula around, but then I remembered I'd left it in the Tower library. And it's in this journal, too. When I leave Orzammar it'll get stuck in the Warden library. And then I thought I'd be double-dealing behind Lamond's back, but that was nixed when I remembered I'd told him about Erlind.

"Well, I gave this info – information – to Lamond, but since I _told_ him I'd be talking to you I don't feel as bad about talking to you." Beat. "If that makes any sense."

Erlind kept a carefully neutral expression. "I think it does."

"Good. Anyway. I gave Lamond the formula for explosive powder. I'd like to do the same-"

"And it dudn't soddin' work! I wasted haf a day workin' on dis ruttin' stuff and got nuttin'! Stupid, inbred, [dwarvish words], topsider sack of [dwarvish word] shit! Tell me why I shouldn't gut ya right now!"

By the end of the little diatribe I was bent sideways over a workbench with a thoroughly pissed off Lamond holding a knife to my belly and a much less pissed off but still frighteningly intense Erlind holding me down by an arm. And I was wondering why the hell the black powder formula didn't work and where the hell I could get some jeweler's rouge.

"You know," Erlind said casually, "he's pretty upset right now. Maybe you should answer his question."

Technically it wasn't a question. It was amazing where my thoughts were going. But I roped and wrestled them back under control. "You made a batch of powder already?"

Lamond's eye glared at me from inches away. "Didn't I say I did? Stupid stack of meat!"

I was positive I knew the correct formula. Yeah, the precise proportions needed to be adjusted, but…. "It should have worked."

"Well, it didn't. I made a batch and set fire to a bit of it and it just poofed away and-"

Wait. "It what?"

Lamond pressed his blade tighter against me. "It went _pfft_! It didn't explode; it just kinda poofed away with a little fire and some smoke."

"It worked!"

"Don't be yanking me, rutting [dwarvish]!"

I was suddenly acutely aware of that dagger. "I'm not," I said with sociopathic calm. "It sounds like the powder worked, just not the way you were expecting."

Erlind's tone was just as calm. "Explain yourself."

I went into lecture mode and gave a brief rundown on black powder. At least, what I know of it. "But," I finished, "if you burn enough of it in a confined space it will cause an explosion."

Lamond's free hand held a bag in front of my face. "Show me."

"Us," Erlind corrected.

I winced as the little bag of powder was slammed into the table. "No problem." A minute later I was sprinkling out a tiny pile of the stuff. "It feels coarse." But then, I don't know how to grind it fine, except maybe with a mortar and pestle. I moved the bag to a safe (a very safe) distance and set a coal to the pile of powder.

Yep, I changed the world.

It seemed to me the powder did burn slowly, but at the time I just wanted a proof of concept. Erlind fetched me a mug. Another pile of powder went on the bench with the mug over top of it. I tilted the mug up ever so slightly. I'd used a bit more powder to run a burn line to the pile. "Uhm, I have no idea how this is gonna work, so let's take some precautions." I was thinking about just ducking behind a bench, but Erlind had other ideas.

"A moment." Erlind retrieved a couple of items from a hanger near the bench. He handed one to Lamond and donned the other himself. Safety goggles, although the lenses appeared to be a crystal of some sort. "Those frames you wearing good or do I need to fetch another set?"

Polycarbonate lenses in a titanium frame. "I should be good."

"Then we're ready."

We knelt down and I pushed a coal into the fuse. We shouldn't have done it, but all three of us watched the line burn down. There was a _pop_ and the cup jumped a little bit.

Lamond snorted.

"Patience, grasshopper."

"What's a grasshopper?"

I put a larger pile of the powder down, ran a fuse, and lit it. This time there was something between a _pop_ and a _bang_ and the cup was tossed away. Not far, but off the bench, and that was enough to cause the dwarves to reappraise me as the cup bounced to a stop.

"Don't celebrate yet."

I reset the experiment with even more powder and _bang! _The cup shot off the bench like, well, a bullet (a slow one), rose almost to the low ceiling, and fell to bounce around the shop. I had a stupid and/or evil smirk on my face and a Frankensteinien sense of accomplishment in my soul.

Erlind opened the door to the main shop and yelled, "Back to work, you sods!" He slammed the door and thumped his fellow smith as he pulled off his goggles. "You got something to say?"

Lamond was shameless but I suppose he was sincere. "Sorry about the knife. Oh, and calling you a [dwarvish]."

I'm guessing I've been called worse things, but I was suddenly ticked off about the knife. "I'll get back to you on that."

Lamond shrugged. "Fair enough."

Erlind was feeling more practical. "Let's go get a drink and talk some things out."

But there was one last thing bothering me. I remembered what I'd forgotten to say to Lamond yesterday: Sten, and, maybe, the other kossith in Orzammar are problems. Sten, certainly, because, for lack of a better word, he's a spy. But he's a Qunari spy; subtlety isn't his game, and if he finds out what I'm doing with the gunpowder formula I don't think things would end well. For me most likely.

"Gentlemen," I said, "you know I'm here with the Wardens, right?" At their nods I continued. "And there's a Qunari here, too."

Lamond gave me a nod. "That extra big fellow, right?"

"Right. Uhm, how can I put this?"

The dwarves exchanged knowing glances. "Is this their formula?"

"It might be. I'm not sure. It's probably close. But I know if they know you know this formula…."

Lamond tried to parse what I'd said.

Erlind got there first. "I understand. Well, let's go have a drink anyway; we can talk things out later."

Lamond nodded at that. "Let's go to Hakkon's. I hear they've got onion rings…."

* * *

><p><strong>28 August (day 72), late morning (I think)<strong>

Another night of not sleeping well. Yeah, because of the info I've passed on, but also because of the damn onion rings. Another early awakening after spending the night burping, and more tea and toast to settle things down.

Lamond and Erlind both put away a couple of liters before returning to work. I'll be going to see them again later today; we'll be sitting down with some drawings and notes and I'll be doing my best to explain how things work. Until then we're just waiting for Alistair and company to get back. Speaking of which, I did show L&E my knife; I'd like to get a copy made for Alistair. They're both pretty impressed with it, but Erlind doesn't have the time to work on it, and Lamond isn't really set up for that kind of fine crafting. They did say they'd see about recommending someone, but, again, chose to head back to work before giving up the name. Although from the way they were acting L&E are going to be talking about working out their own deal for what I'm giving them along with arguing about a couple of things. Speaking of which….

Lamond suddenly glared at me then leaned in close and whispered, "Why are you giving us this? Why aren't you making your fortune topside?"

Erlind looked a lot less suspicious. "I think he has his reasons, but I'd like to hear'em myself."

I held up a hand and started ticking off points. "First off: I'm travelling with the Wardens. No time to work on this until now. And when we're done here we're back on the road, so I'll be in the same boat."

"Boat?"

"Uhm, situation? Good. Second: y'all have the knowledge to actually make the tech that-"

"What's tech?"

"Never mind," I said. "To make the tools and equipment to really make the- To make this stuff useful. Third – and I apologize if I offend either of you by saying this – the weapons you can make from this will give you a winning chance against the darkspawn. Blight or no."

Lamond just nodded at that.

The easier-going Erlind clenched his jaw. "And that's it? What about you? You can't just be giving this away cause you like dwarves."

Actually, that is kind of my motivation. But for the moment I just shrugged. "I could use a new helmet. One that fits over my glasses."

"Don't be yanking him," Lamond grumbled.

"I'm not."

"You've gotta want something," Erlind snapped. "I don't believe-"

"Listen!" I bitterly snapped back. "I didn't mean to end up here but since I did I'm gonna try to a make a difference. And this is the biggest one I know how to make." I waved at the table and the remnants of a stack of onion rings. "Why do you think we're drinking for free?"

Erlind gawked at the empty plate. "That was you, too?"

I ignored the question. "Listen to me, and listen to me carefully. I've got ideas and knowledge that you don't. A lot of it doesn't mean much-" I waved at the empty plate again. "-but some of it does. And a couple of things are so…big, I guess, that they need to be shared instead of sold. And this is one of them." I just stared at Erlind and silently dared him to say something else about my motives.

Lamond suddenly turned out to be the reasonable one. "All right. Well, it is a right shiny secret you shared, but we'll decide if it's worth the trouble." He looked in his mug and frowned. "Guess we're done here for now. We'll send someone for you when we're ready to talk again." He lightly punched the unreadable Erlind. "Come on. We've got work to do."

* * *

><p>Neria came in while I was working on breakfast and the above entries.<p>

"There you are! Come on!"

I groaned; my stomach was still mad about the onions, but I pushed up and followed her anyway. We ended up back in the armory; Neria grabbed a couple of staves and handed me one.

"Again?"

"Yep!" she said.

Having an overly perky morning person asking you to beat them up can do wonderful things for a tired mind and body. Unfortunately I'm nowhere as good with a staff as Zevran is (not that kind of staff, you pervs), so I ended up taking a couple shots myself. Still, I made the girl hop away hurting a few times.

"Sorry about last night," I said at one point.

Neria shrugged. "So why were you gone so long?"

I already had a story ready. "They had some questions about the jack – the lifter – I'd sold Bodahn. Then we just ended up talking. I think Erlind wanted to pick my brain for more ideas. I sold him one. I've got a few sovereigns to give you." Erlind had paid me a direct finder's fee for what I'd told him yesterday. Five more gold coins in my pocket and five more for the group. At least if I make it through this I won't have to worry about money for a while.

Neria smiled and shook her head. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but take it anyway. We might end up needing it."

We exchanged some more blows then Neria winced when I caught her arm. "Something useful against the Blight? Whatever it is you sold Erlind."

"Might be, but I don't have the skills to build it."

"So…it's…like a crossbow, maybe?"

Clever lass. "Sort of. But I promised I wouldn't say anything to anybody about it."

Nod. "I understand." she said with a grimace. She ran a glowing hand up her thigh and sighed with relief.

"Have you given any more thought to that dragon spear?"

Neria shook her head. "It feels dead. I don't like it."

"Maybe we can talk to Bodahn and get Sandal to enchant it for you."

"Hmm. I hadn't considered that." She pursed her lips and thought for a second. "But it's so…different. Is looking…badass? Is it that important?"

"Oh, yes, totally. But being able to stab the odd darkspawn is too."

"If you say so." She hefted her staff. "Ready?"

We sparred for a few more minutes and Neria ended up cracking my shin at the same I caught her hip. I ended hopping around and swearing; she was trying to neither laugh nor cry.

"Little help here! Shins are sensitive, you know."

Neria was staggering. "As soon as I stop hurting!"

"You're a healer!"

"Ooh, you're right!" She ran a glowing hand around her hip and sagged. "Ah, much better!"

I was still gritting my teeth. "What about me?"

"You'll be fine."

I bared my teeth and snarled at her and got a giggle in return.

"Come here, you big baby."

"Let me whack you in the shin!"

"No!" But Neria knelt down and took away the pain. "Better?"

"Aah. Much better; thank you."

"I think we're done." She wasn't panting as hard as the day before, but Zevran had worked her a lot harder than I did.

"You sure? I'm still good."

"I'm sure."

We headed back to the armory and grounded the weapons. But I decided to grab my new crossbow for some target practice. I didn't get very far, though.

"The last few days have been nice, haven't they?"

"What's that?"

Neria suddenly looked tireder than she should. "The last few days. Here in Orzammar. Sleeping in real beds. Eating good food. Being warm and dry. Not having to worry about running into someone who wants to kill us. If it wasn't for the nightmares…."

"Have they been bad?"

"There's something about being underground. There's no darkspawn close by, but…." She folded her arms in on herself and shivered. "Alistair doesn't know why; he says his are the same."

We silently watched each other fidget for a minute then Neria sighed. "I hope they're okay."

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "They should be. Alistair's smart, and he knows what he's doing."

Neria smiled at that. "Well, he's a good Grey Warden."

Huh? I raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind." She looked down at my hands. "I've never shot a crossbow. Do you think you could teach me?"

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

Alistair's armor has another hole in it. "Darkspawn arrow. But it just punched through the armor; it didn't even touch me." The Templar skirt, OTOH, isn't even scraps.

Morrigan's scraps are scrappier, and I think the Templar skirt was incorporated into them. "Do not ask."

Leliana's leather trousers need to be replaced. "Deepstalkers. We walked into a nest of the horrid things."

Sten's lower leg armor is acid etched. "It was more efficient to simply kick them to death."

Wynne's robes are in surprisingly good shape. "The trip was enlightening."

"Enlightening?" Morrigan didn't sound enlightened. "I would not describe it as such."

"I agree with the older boss seraboss. The journey was enlightening, if unpleasant."

"But," Alistair said, "we did find Lord Dace. He gave us a message for Lady Dace that we still need to deliver, by the way, and then went back to looking for…whatever it was he's looking for."

"So now…-" Zevran started.

Neria finished. "So now we take word to Bhelen about this. Well, we take the message to Lady Dace, then go see Vartag, and then…." She trailed off; Selda and Wanef were about and helping the others recover from the trip.

"So when do we go?" Alistair asked.

Neria took a look at Alistair and shook her head. "Not you; not this time. I'll take Jeffrey and Zevran with me." She gave him a smile. "Get some rest and some food."

"I'll go with you, too. If you don't mind."

Everybody turned to look at Wynne. She didn't look frail or wrung out. Actually, despite the journey she'd just been on, she looked pretty well rested.

"Are you certain?" Leliana asked. Like the others who'd gone out she looked pretty ragged out herself.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I'd like to meet Vartag and-" Wynne stopped herself. "And Bhelen, and form my own opinions of them." She smiled indulgently. "And the others need the bathing rooms much worse than I do."

Neria glanced at me and Zevran. "Uh…."

I thought about it for a couple of seconds. "If you think you're up to it, sure."

Zevran gave a little bow. "We would be honored to have you join us."

"Fine," Neria said. "We shouldn't be very long anyway. Jeffrey: gear up. Vartag won't even talk to us otherwise."

* * *

><p>I scribbled some of the above down while gearing up. Added a little more later, but it looks like we're going after the Carta right now. Wish us luck. Gotta go.<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN:_ **Oplindenfep** _raised a very good point that I missed. According to the DA: Awakening info the dwarven explosives require lyrium sand to operate. Jeff doesn't know or remember this, and has apparently not compromised the Mining Caste's secret. However, black powder has, up until this time, appeared to be exclusively used by the Qunari, so Jeff's definitely violated the embargo on that information._

_In-game after you find Lord Dace he asks if you'd like to journey back to Orzammar with him. That always ticks me off; instead of going into the Deep Roads you could have just waited for him to get back._

**obiwan24771:** _thank you! Glad you're enjoying it!_

**Gillian Grayson:** _thank you very much for the info! Where did you find it?_

**Amanuet & AD Lewis:** _Harrowmont is definitely the easier choice for a player. He comes across as nice and reasonable, but once you get that epilogue you realize that despite being the much more palatable choice he's just not good for the dwarves in the long run. But choosing Bhelen does leave a bad taste in one's mouth. Doesn't it? _

**Corlii:** _As you can see we're probably going to end up with guns in Ferelden. And the Deep Roads had some interesting and creepy moments, but I thought it was way too long._

**SnowHelm: **_I totally agree: Alistair needs to get some. He'd still be embarrassed about it, though._

**Phygmalion:** _Orzammar suffers from what's called a 'lack of strategic depth.' Basically they don't have anywhere to go if the worst happens. I don't know how well I caught Bhelen's motivations, but they certainly seem to make sense given the mortal threats the dwarves face. The insight on that is really Alistair's; when I was writing the conversation that analysis just sort of popped up. I guess Alistair is smarter than we give him credit for._

**InsidiousAgent:** _I like messing with Alistair, too, but it won't happen too often; I don't want him to turn into a butt monkey. Jeff's choice of a shotgun over a long gun was more of a 'how hard is it to make?' type thing. But he also knows how well-suited shotguns are to close quarters combat, and that a grapeshot loaded cannon is basically a giant shotgun…. I've certainly considered having other origin characters show up, but there aren't any definite plans yet._


	60. Something Completely Different

**28 August, **_**late evening **_**and 29 August (day 73), very early morning**

_This is gonna be tough. hand hurts like_

Jeffrey is propped in his bed, a blue blanket tucked about his waist, wearing a shirt with an ocean of stars imprinted upon it. His hand and arm are neatly bandaged and slung from his shoulder. He was not grievously injured and though he is unable to write he is such a dedicated scribe that not doing so gnaws upon his spirit. In his stead I am setting my pen to his paper.

'Enough!' he says but I laugh at him. Jeffrey tries to scowl but his face is not made for such. His blue eyes vainly attempt to send anger but the emotion is stopped by his uncannily clear lenses.

"_Fine," Leliana finally said, and gave me _

"Okay [such an odd word, yet so useful]" Jeffrey says, his voice strained. "You win." He gently, carefully flexes his writing hand. Pain is sprinkled on his boyish face.

I laugh at him again, not cruelly, and hope he does not take offense. I believe he does not, for while he looks angry I believe the emotion is merely a mask. I have come to know him well over these months together; I believe he is simply frustrated at being unable to write.

This is easy to remedy: I ask him to tell me of the prior evening and promise to note all that he says.

A war erupts on Jeffreys face. He dearly wishes to tell his story, but he desires to tell it on his own terms. But the memories are fresh and sharp now; should he delay the telling he may be unable to tell it fully. Were he uninjured he would valiantly attempt to remain awake all night scribbling fervently in this book. More than once I have found him asleep with this volume in his lap and pen in hand.

I implore him, gently, to tell me.

Jeffrey finally, reluctantly relents. "Get me something to drink first."

* * *

><p>Jeffrey shrugs then shivers as he downs a sip of warm brandy. "There is not much to say about Vartag. He complimented us on our work and then took us to see Bhelen."<p>

I ask him to tell me of Bhelen.

Jeffrey frowns as he searches his thoughts. "Light brown hair and beard. Dark eyes. A friendly face and a nice voice. Slick." I do not know this word, so Jeffrey explains. "He comes across as reasonable, but when he talks I feel he is just feeding us a line of bullshit."

That causes me to laugh softly, yet Jeffrey remains quietly pensive. I wonder if we can trust Bhelen.

"We can. We will get what we need from him."

But Neria, she does not like Bhelen.

"She does not. She might trust him-" Jeffrey stops, uncertain. "Might. But she is suspicious of him. She asked why he thinks Harrowmont is an usurper when the kings are elected. Bhelen said normally the Assembly just votes on the previous king's decree and they're done with. But Harrowmont is an old member of the Assembly; Bhelen called him a negotiator; a compromiser, and said that Harrowmont called in favors to rally support. And I can see why Neria and Alistair like him. Harrowmont, that is. He just sounds like a nice, reasonable guy."

And yet from what I have seen and heard in Orzammar I must support Bhelen. He is a ruthless fellow, yet ruthlessness is what Orzammar [and Ferelden] needs right now. Zevran knows this, as do I. Neither of us have shirked our duties in the past; we understand the practicalities of these dangerous times. And Jeffrey – he is a kind man but he understands the practicalities as well, even though I see pain and anger and sadness as along with the understanding.

Jeffrey is stonily silent, but when the pen stops its delicate scratching he continues his words. They are tense, but rather from the brandy or the pain I cannot say. Perhaps both. But curious as well. "Are you keeping up with me?"

I am. I show him my writing; much is abbreviated, and my script flows like Orzammar's lava.

"And you'll come back later to pad it out?" Jeffrey laughs. "My mom knew shorthand; she tried to teach me once, but it did not take. Never thought I would need it." Another laugh, but this one is bitter. The laugh is cut short as Jeffrey takes a quick gulp of brandy. "Anyway – Neria questioned him – Bhelen – and he assured her that he – how did he put it? /That we – dwarves and topsiders – have to stand united against the evil of the Blight./ Then he swore by the mail of his ancestors that he would provide us with an army."

Ah, but he was bargaining, no?

"Oh, yes. I caught it. Zevran caught it and said so. Wynne caught it and gave him a little bump when she heard him. I did not think Neria did, but she just stood there and gave Bhelen the evil eye while he stood there and asked us to go after Jarvia. And then she looked back to us, and I could see the /what do I do?/ in her eyes. I gave her the okay; I guess Zevran and Wynne did, too."

Jeffrey takes another drink as my words catch his. Neria – she is a dear girl and I hope she is well. But though she has grown since I met her she does not have the cunning to navigate the maze of the dwarven Game. And yet that simplicity allowed her to deceive Bhelen as to our true intentions.

Jeffrey hears my sigh. "What is wrong?"

I speak to him of my support for Bhelen and the conflict it has caused within me. And yet I am completely loyal to Neria, and have a Maker-inspired faith in her.

Jeffrey raises his slung arm. "Well, apparently I will do anything for her, but it will be tough to support Harrowmont. I have been trying to convince Alistair to change his mind, but have not been having much luck."

I am aware of Jeffreys conversations with Alistair. And I have spoken with and shall speak to Alistair at length on this topic, but such is not for this account. This is Jeffreys tale, and it must move on.

* * *

><p>The brandy, fruity and strong, has reached Jeffreys head, for he sits with a dreamy expression and tired eyes. Yet he is alert, for those same eyes dart about the room and take in little details such as the scraps of cloth woven into Morrigans clothing.<p>

Jeffrey speaks deliberately while I try to not laugh. "That is a Templar skirt." He points to a purple cloth woven expertly into the scraps that conceal Morrigans small but lovely bosom. His finger hovers like a bee investigating a flower.

Our swamp witch frowns icily as she checks his bandages and recoils from Jeffreys face and finger. "You are drunk." Her voice is icy as well.

"Well, maybe a little." Jeffreys accent has shifted again, but only for those few words. "How is Neria?"

Morrigans disapproving expression does not change, but her voice warms ever so slightly. "She is well, and sleeping, as you should be."

"Can not sleep. Have to write about what happened." Jeffreys words are monotone.

Ice comes back to Morrigans voice. "You are in no condition to write."

Jeffrey smiles crookedly. "But I can talk, and she has agreed to write."

I smile and incline my head to Morrigan. The witch rolls her golden eyes and spins lightly before gliding from the room. But to Jeffrey the glide is a strut, for he watches carefully as she walks away. He spies me spying on him and smiles sleepily. "The boots. They get me right here." He points unashamedly at his groin.

I can do naught but smile and shake my head and laugh softly.

* * *

><p>Jeffrey stares into the ceiling as he speaks. He claims doing so helps his memory. "We headed down to Tapsters to grab a beer, although Wynne was kind of hungry, too. We tried to convince her to come back here to eat, but I guess things worked out better the way they did. We wrote a note for Dulin and gave it to Zevran; he passed it, then a little while later he ended up with one from Dulin. That note also asked us to go after Jarvia, but to check her papers to see if there was anything to link her to Bhelen and his brothers death. Zevran figured she would have saved something."<p>

That would be a wise decision by Jarvia. Holding letters from Bhelen would increase her lifespan.

Jeffrey agrees. But he is less certain of the next decision. "Neria wanted to come back here to get the rest of you, but you were still recovering. And I had spotted a kossith – a Qunari – in Tapsters, and I had heard that there were a few here working as mercenaries."

They were working for Jarvia.

"Some of them. But Zevran had heard dinner time – supper time – was when Jarvias crew would be less likely to be in the hideout." Jeffrey emphatically counts off points with his fingers. "And I figured the place would be too tight for all of us to move around in. We all thought we should move quick before any word could get to Jarvia. And Wynne thought we might even be able to use Bhelens actions to get Jarvia to denounce him. For what good that would do."

All of this is sound reasoning, although Jeffrey does not seem confident that the final decision was sound. Yet Neria listens and learns and takes lessons to heart. Sometimes one must act cautiously; other time one must act swiftly. Swift action seemed to be the correct choice, and that is what Neria chose.

* * *

><p>I watch as Alistair gingerly helps Jeffrey out of bed and out of the room. The shield brothers are close yet hide their affection for each other in the rough way that men do. I know Jeffrey feels as if he disappointed him, but Alistair is having none of it. If anything, dear Alistair feels close to Jeffrey right now. They speak quietly as they move down the hallway, but I can not make out the words except to say Alistairs are warm and friendly while Jeffreys are guarded. A short time later Alistair helps Jeffrey back into the bed; Jeffrey groans as he sits but quickly becomes comfortable. He graciously offers Alistair a drink.<p>

The younger man gratefully but guardedly accepts. "I would rather not get drunk right now."

The older man shrugs. "I would."

I am offered a drink; I accept in the spirit of camaraderie. The brandy is warm and smooth, but a bit sweet for my tastes, yet the act of drinking with friends is meant to calm the soul rather than the body. Alistair sips carefully, and I enjoy the sensation of the liquor, but Jeffrey simply gulps his measure down as if it were water.

Alistair implores Jeffrey to rest but Jeffrey nods to me. "As soon as I get this down. Well, as soon as Leliana gets this down."

I smile warmly at Alistair.

"Oh, you two!" Alistair exclaims in mock frustration. But he clasps Jeffreys uninjured hand and speaks quietly. Jeffrey returns the words, then carefully leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. Alistair gestures to me and I join him for brief rendezvous outside the room.

I reassure Alistair of Jeffreys health, but explain that Jeffrey must still come to accept his actions. Alistair is unconvinced, but allows me to chase him away with a chaste kiss and a promise to speak later. I return to Jeffrey and sit with pen waiting.

* * *

><p>Jeffrey speaks with the care of one only just in his cups. "The guards did not want us going into Dust Town, but that ended up being pretty simple to deal with."<p>

A bribe, if I know Zevran as I do.

"Exactly. A large one, so it worked. They /lost us in the crowd at Tapsters./ We gave them a few coins to buy a round and bit more. They went their way; we went ours."

I have heard of Dust Town, but have not had the dubious pleasure of seeing it. I understand it is much like the alienages of larger cities, except the dwarves have cast aside their own.

"I was expecting slums, bad ones, and that is what I got. Same for Zevran. Wynne and Neria were definitely not. But as soon as we walked into the area we started getting eyeballed by the locals, so we went shields up and weapons ready. Good thing, because somebody tried to lift Nerias purse almost first thing. Cullen took a chunk out of him, though, and he took off." Jeffrey tilts his head like Cullen trying to gain a treat "At least I think it was a he."

I smile at that but Jeffrey does not notice. He continues the recounting.

"Thirty seconds later – thirty heartbeats – well, a lot more than thirty because mine was racing, a handful of dwarves ended up in our faces. They said the usual crap: /well, what do we have here?/ /looks like rich sky-gazers/ /looks like stupid rich sky-gazers/ /we are eating good tonight/ and then the leader added something in dwarvish and came after us."

I wonder if this was when Zevran was injured.

"No, that came a little later. But these guys-" Jeffreys voice fades as he shakes his head, frustration evident on his face. He speaks a single word with great emphasis and a flat accent. "Idiots." When he speaks again his voice is its normal tone. "They were probably used to picking on other Dust Town residents because they lasted about twenty seconds. We dropped their melee fighters – there were a couple guys with crossbows but they ran off when the others went down."

"So we are standing there looking at the bodies and we actually hear somebody laughing. There was a well dressed for Dust Town dwarf sitting on a doorstop. He said something in dwarvish - /extraordinarily impatient descendants/ is what he said it means."

I understand the sentiment but the insult loses its sting when translated. Still, it will be useful to remember should I ever have to insult a dwarf in the future.

"Then he called them a bunch of wacky nephews – really, that is what he said – who obviously could not recognize a pair of mages if they had their beards set on fire by them. And then he asked if we would like to earn some money by smuggling some lyrium to the Circle Tower. I thought Neria was going to take him up but Wynne coughed – loudly – and Neria said we did not need the money, and that we were not planning to head that way for a while. Then she asked about Jarvia but he did not have any info so we moved on. Oh, and those bodies? By the time we were finished with the smuggler they had been picked clean."

Jeffrey continues speaking and I can see his eye for detail. He speaks of the poverty of Dust Town and the desperation of some of its inhabitants. These things tear at his being; the brandy has brought truth to his face. Yet he narrates his tale as if telling the history of a battle ages old – quietly, dispassionately, factually.

Neria – the dear girl - spoke kindly to those she met and gave away coin freely, yet she is as disturbed by the dwarven alienage as Jeffrey. Neria spoke, and Jeffrey speaks, of an injured member of Jarvias cartel lying in the street begging for coin. And of a member of the Mining Caste abandoned by her family for the insult of bearing the child of a casteless. But her kindness came through for after a short time she was provided directions to a house in which Jarvias crew [as Jeffrey calls them] tried to entrap our friends with an ambush. But Jeffrey, in a cunning decision, kicked the door open but did not enter.

Jeffrey laughs. "Dumb asses. It is like they were expecting us to just walk inside and get surrounded and get our asses kicked. And then they started talking smack; trying to get us to come in. I blocked the door and said /Neria, toss a fireball in there./ Zevran chuckled and said /a wonderful idea./ Neria just said /right/ in that hard Warden voice she gets."

Jeffrey and I have spoken of this on occasion. My sister is becoming harder as the burdens of being a Grey Warden weigh upon her. This is sadly needful for she has a frighteningly difficult journey ahead of her. I am saddened and fearful for her, for at heart she is a lovely girl. I can only pray that some kernel of that innocence remains once we have finished our task.

Jeffrey continues tipsily speaking as I write the digression. "/What is the password?/ I said /fireball/, and the idiot went /huh?/ and then Neria tossed one in. But you know; I would have liked them to just surrender, but there were too many crossbows pointed at us." He sighs deeply. "A couple of them ran out the way we came in, but one tried to run the other way. We stopped him."

"We pushed on as fast as we could. We ran into a few of the Carta crew, but they mostly figured since we were in the complex we where we were supposed to be. A few did not, and there was one tough fight and a few other not so tough fights. On the other hand, we did step into one room and there was an elven mage sitting at table eating dinner. No one else; just him. Turns out he's an escapee from the Tower. His name is Ianen; he and Wynne recognized each other. I almost thought we were going to have to kill the poor guy; he was totally freaked out when he saw Wynne. He thought we were there for him." Jeffrey laughs. "He thought I was a Templar; Zevran is the one who got him to stand down. He gave us some info about Jarvia, Wynne gave him some money and wished him luck, and we sent him out the way we came in."

Jeffrey suddenly scowls. "We found a jail. Just a few cells, but too many Carta guys there. Another tough fight. And Zevran - the dumb ass - tried to slip around me and I just reacted."

That is when Zevran was first injured. Our lecherous assassin is carrying a remarkable bruise on the right side of his face. Jeffrey slammed his dented but still sturdy shield into Zevran as the elf tried to find a way around an opponent. Jeffrey was truly sorry for the mistake, yet Zevran must shoulder the blame, for Jeffrey did not know he was there until the blow was struck. But Jeffrey suddenly looks and sounds sober as he continues speaking.

"There was a dwarf in one of the cells. The bastards had not fed him in a few days, but they ate every one of their meals right in front of him. We set the poor guy loose, but he offered to come with us after Jarvia. He was not in any shape to fight; we told him to just get out. He was only just better off than his friend in the next cell, and that guy was a corpse. You know, the jailors – that was one bunch I would kill again."

I quietly agree with Jeffreys words for I have been jailed before. Once it was a lovely room with a single guard outside. Most often it was a lonely cell in which I had to simply wait until my release was secured. Other times were not as pleasant.

"So we took a couple of wrong turns and ended up backtracking a couple times. I got to meet a tame bronto, and a there was a pen full of deepstalkers, of all things. I guess they keep the critters for food. But they were tame, too, although Wynne had a few things to say about them." Suddenly Jeffrey shudders. "Giant spiders. You know, I was never-"

Jeffrey uses a long word with which I am unfamiliar. I ask and he spells it for me. It takes him a second try because of the brandy. But as he spells his I can see confusion cross his face and once finished with the word he starts speaking to the room.

"How the hell does that work? I know I spelled it right, but I'm not speaking Inglish. At least I do not think I am. But those roots do not exist- Or do they? Because-"

I ask what he means.

Jeffreys eyes snap back into focus as he looks to my voice. "Never mind. That way lies madness. At least more of it. Anyway, we finally came up on a heavy door, and I knew that was it. We backtracked a little to make sure we would not have worry about anything hitting us from behind then I volunteered to open the door. We buffed up and then I did. /Jarvia!/ I said /We need to talk!/ They were not expecting us; they were not just standing around, but a couple of guards gave me a /WTF/ look and then Jarvia came out from behind the desk she was sitting at. We interrupted her dinner, too."

"Well, she was not happy. /The door, you idiots!/ she yelled and I suddenly realized why it was so hard to open. There's a spring load or something in it, but at least I knew it was gonna slam shut on me. I tilted my shield and good thing because it did slam, but the shield got caught between the door and the jam."

"/We just want to talk!/ I yelled again, but Jarvia was not having any of it. /It is one of the topsiders! Kill him!/ Well, my shield was not going anywhere, so I started fumbling with the straps while Wynne threw a protective ward or something and Neria threaded a fireball through the gap. I got the shield off my arm and backed into the hall and we set up only to watch a single dwarf come up and try to work the shield loose. It was solidly stuck, then Zevran solidly stuck the fellow with a dagger. I heard Jarvia scream something else and the door yanked open and the hall was suddenly full of angry dwarves. But while we were stuck out there the mages had prepped the area and they ran into Wynnes glyphs and Nerias cone of ice. Cullen, Zevran, and I all picked off stragglers. Jarvia was actually crying as she watched her crew go down and was still crying when Zevran stabbed her. A few of them took off running; some the way we had come, others through a bolt hole that lead to the Commons." Jeffrey gives me a knowing look. "You know, the fight should have been harder; but _we_ had an overwhelming tactical advantage. Thank you, reality, such as it is. Anyway, I got banged up a bit; especially my left arm because I did not have my shield, but we all came through fine with Wynnes healing."

"So we checked Jarvia and her desk for the papers Dulin said would be there, and they were not. We tried opening a chest, but despite what he said Zevran can not pick a lock to save his life. I ended up breaking the lock off with my knife and prying the thing open, but could not find the papers. But then Zevran took a closer look and found a hidden seam and found the papers in there."

Jeffrey sounds disappointed at this and I understand. The incriminating papers are to be given to Harrowmonts man. These papers, along with other revelations, will greatly shift support to Harrowmont in the Assembly. This is not a direction either of us consider favorable for the dwarves, but Neria and Alistair wish it. We will obey those wishes.

"We grabbed a couple other things that looked valuable and headed out. We followed the passage to the Commons and came out in this little shop. The owner just yelled at us until we left; I guess Jarvias guys had already scared him enough. But as we left this cute dwarf girl came running out and talked to Neria and Wynne about going to the Circle Tower-" Jeffrey stops and laughs. "Of course it had to happen."

A dwarf wishing to go to the Circle of Magi? And why did such a thing have to happen?

"Yep! Neria can tell you more. As for why- I do not know. I am drunk, and things will make more sense when I am sober."

He is nicely drunk, but still has a few untold things left to tell.

"So we were dinged up and bloody but thought we should swing by Tapsters and touch base with Dulin. We gave Zevran a note to pass to him and also told him to pick up the guards." Jeffreys face suddenly darkens as a bitter memory comes to the fore. "There is a merchant row near Tapsters; Neria went to talk to one while we waited for Zevran. I was watching for any leftovers of Jarvias to come after us, but none did. The merchant Neria was talking to suddenly shouted /for Harrowmont!/ I turned around just in time to see him stab her. Cullen went nuts and Wynne yelled at me to watch my back. Some dwarves – Harrowmont supporters I assume – suddenly rushed us. Four, I think; at least two got by me and went after the ladies. Wynne was helping Neria and the merchant was busy with Cullen. I did not even have a chance to get my sword out, but I still had my shield so I did what I could. The little bastards were expecting me to draw but instead I charged and knocked one down and busted anothers face. The little shit was made of iron; I felt some fingers break when I hit him. I went to help the ladies and clocked one dwarf in the back of the head. Neria was down and bleeding bad and Wynne was down, too. There was a dwarf standing over her with a weapon up so I hit that guy with my shield. He stumbled but stayed up and turned around, saw my lack of weapon, and gave me this smug little grin."

Jeffrey suddenly sits up in the bed. He face is drawn tight and angry in a way that I have not seen before. "I thought the little bastard had killed both the ladies, so I punched him so hard I felt his face cave in. I rolled over that guy and used my shield on the guy Cullen was after. Then I went back after the first two and punched the one guy in the face again. And again. Hard enough that I definitely felt bones breaking. They could have been mine but I was so angry I was not feeling any pain. The other guy came after me but we ended up on the ground with me pounding him until he stopped moving. I looked around but the other dwarves were dead or wishing they were. I could have sworn there was one more but- Then Zevran showed up; he had been jumped on the way out of Tapsters by two more guys. He was limping and bloodied, but not too bad off. And that is when I realized I had a dagger sticking out of my leg, too, so Zevran and a guard ran up to fetch the rest of you."

"And that is what I saw happen. Neria was very badly hurt. Wynne was not too bad off but- But she had to get Neria stabilized before she could help me so I-. I had a dagger sticking out of my arm, but the real damage was all the broken bones from me beating a dwarf to death. And that would not have happened if-" Jeffrey looks disgusted, and I believe it is with himself.

I speak to him reassuringly. You protected Neria and Wynne as best you could, and as at the Tower you thoughtlessly lashed out only from grief and anger. I smile, warmly I hope.

Jeffrey does not look convinced, but he is drunk. "Maybe so, but I do not like myself very much right now."

I still like him, and I tell him so. I also tell him he needs to rest, for he has told all that needs to be told.

"One last thing. I killed a lot of people today, but I did not like it."

You gave many the chance to slip away, and that is commendable.

Jeffrey gives me a small, tired, drunken smile. "Maybe so, but-" The smile slips away. "I enjoyed killing that guy going after Neria."

I understand this all too well. Vengeance can be most satisfying. Please, do not let it trouble you.

"But I have to. If I do not I may not stay me."

You are still the man I have come to know during our travels together.

"But I am not the man I used be."

None of us are who we used to be. But right now you are in pain, and you are tired, and you are drunk. But you will feel better rested and sober.

"I am tired. Do not know about the pain." Jeffrey pokes his injured hand very carefully and quietly sings his next words. "I have become comfortably numb." His eyes suddenly stare at a point unimaginably far away and he begins singing quietly to himself.

I watch Jeffrey sing the song I do not know through to its end. I will speak to him as he desires until he sleeps, but I shall end my written words here.

* * *

><p>I only add these words in this volume because I believe Jeffrey needs them.<p>

Jeffrey finally sleeps the sleep of one deep in his cups. I removed myself from his worried embrace and now find myself speaking with Neria. My sister is pale but her movements are easy. I must convey my compliments and thanks to both Wynne and Morrigan.

Neria stares at the sleeping man. "Is he well?"

Well in body, but his spirit suffers from death he dealt out today.

"I watched him fight. At the merchants. I could not help him. And he looked so angry."

You were badly hurt. Dying, perhaps. Jeffrey certainly thought you were dead. He feared a member of the family he has found here was taken from him, so he lashed out at those responsible. I have seen you do the same, and I believe any of us would.

Neria considers my words as she closely watches our friend sleep. "It was not his fault. The merchant- He grabbed my hand and pulled me close and stabbed me before I knew what was happening. Maker!" She suddenly steps close to Jeffrey and runs her pale hand across his injured hand in the manner of a healer. I start to protest but she finishes quickly.

Embarrassed by my worry, she smiles an apology. "Just making sure he is okay."

It is a small lie, for Neria looks the slightest bit paler and Jeffrey seems to be sleeping easier. I nod my thanks to my sister.

"We have to take care of each other." Nerias words are solemn and sincere. "He took care of me best he could."

I tap this volume. I will make sure he knows.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Later<strong>_

_I feel like I owe Neria a huge apology, but I know I owe Leliana a big thank you._

* * *

><p><em>AN: this chapter was very difficult to write. I had to change out my normal style _and_ force a change to the normal point of view. I hope everybody enjoyed the experiment; despite the trouble I certainly enjoyed the challenge. I can't promise that I will or won't do it again; that'll depend on where the story ends up going._

_A common theme in the previous chapter's reviews is that of Neria becoming an Arcane Warrior. The thought hadn't crossed my (and, therefore, Jeff's) mind yet. I'd actually viewed the Sacred Ashes trailer again and noticed Morrigan's melee handiwork with her staff and that got me to thinking and you all saw the results. Jeff did, however, deliberately invoke the DA2 style pointy mage staffs, but as you can see Neria's resisting that idea._

_The fight with Jarvia consistently ticks me off. You get to use solid tactics for the entire trip through the Carta Hideout but then get thrown into a boss fight after being forced into a room with a locked door behind you. There's no way Jeff would let that happen._

_For those of you wondering I am conducting a play through of DA:O in conjunction with writing _**MoN**. _I'm progressing the game as I write the story and I'm using in game occurrences to inspire and help flesh out some of the details._

_And finally I'd like to welcome aboard some favers and alerters: _**Mercsenary, Vulcanic, Writer-Supreme, Mayhem296, Chocobonight, and Child-of-November. **_Apologies if I've missed anyone._

**Gillian Grayson:** _Thanks for the info on the Wardens. It really helps having a second set of eyes looking for the information. I'd already dug through the DA wiki and didn't find those entries, but looking back at my research path it turns out it was a pretty close miss. Arg._

_Onion rings are one of those things that should just exist everywhere across the multiverse. The idea just popped into the story while I was writing and it seemed to make sense. I just hope the dwarves don't fatten up too much on them…._

**SnowHelm, Phygmalion & AD Lewis:** _MINOR SPOILER: the limits of Jeff's knowledge will be discussed next chapter. And you've seen his fear of Sten picking up on what he's doing._

**InsidiousAgent:** _I don't have much to say about Neria's romantic interests right now._

**Mayhem296 & Jakyerski:** _thanks, welcome aboard, and enjoy the ride!_


	61. Running on Empty

**29 August (day 73), noon**

Some fallout from yesterday's activities: there's a small but rowdy group of dwarves outside the Compound. I can't call them angry because I don't think they are. I think they're reps from the Merchant Caste who are happy with what we did to the Carta. OTOH, they could be reps from the Merchant Caste who are angry with what we did to the Carta. OTGH, there might be some of Jarvia's guys hiding out in the bunch, so we'll keep our distance.

Not that we have a choice: we're now officially confined to the Warden Compound. The Guard Captain was understandably upset about a group of armed outsiders taking on a job nobody's really supposed to do. And he's double upset with us bribing our escort to look the other way. And he's triple upset with a throne contender's supporters attacking a group of outsiders in the streets. So he's locked us down; the only folks allowed in or out are Selda and Wanef, and they're being escorted everywhere they go.

Harrowmont himself stopped by first thing this morning and apologized profusely to Alistair and everyone else who was awake. I'm not on that list; Neria shouldn't have been but Alistair insisted she be woken up The takeaway from that conversation is that 1) Harrowmont had nothing to do with the attack, 2) he's embarrassed about them using his name, 3) he's publicly announced he supports the Wardens whatever decision they make, 4) he hopes this doesn't affect our 'understanding' with him.

Oy. More on that later.

* * *

><p>"Sten."<p>

The Qunari looked up from the book he was reading. His eyes considered me impassively. "Are you well?"

I flexed my hand; the muscles and tendons are still tight, and it's a bit sore, but nothing a little more healing and some light physical therapy won't fix. "The leg's fine, but the hand needs a little more time." I ran a hand through my hair. "So does the head."

Sten's impassiveness became more so at that. "You should not have consumed alcohol in the state you were in."

I did have just a hair too much brandy last night/this morning. "It was either that or sit there sober. At least it numbed me up so I could sleep."

Sten just stared at me disapprovingly.

"But that's not what I meant when I said my head needs some time. I'd like to talk for a moment, if you don't mind."

"I do not."

"I lost it again. Control. Like back at the Tower when I punched out that Templar."

"It is my understanding you did so to defend the Warden and the boss seraboss."

"I did, but-" I took a few seconds to reorganize my thoughts. "That's not the problem. The problem is I lost control. No, that's not it, either."

"Your thoughts are agitated. Find your center."

I started and stopped speaking a few times while Sten just stared quietly. I finally came up with something. "Can I ask you a personal question? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to."

Sten's eyes narrowed. "That is acceptable."

"When you lost control and killed the farmers did you know what you were doing?"

He answered immediately. "At the time I did not, but my memory is of my body acting without direction. I know this is not precisely true, but that is the best I can describe it." The eyes narrowed even further. "Did this happen to you?"

"No. I knew what I was doing. I didn't wanna just hit him; I wanted to _hurt_ him. And when-" I felt myself shudder. "And when I felt his bones breaking I _enjoyed_ it."

"You reacted to what you believed to be the Warden's death. Your anger is understandable and, possibly, tolerable, but your…satisfaction is less so." His eyes relaxed. "I believe you were seeking vengeance, and in reaching that goal you interpreted your emotions incorrectly. Be aware, however, that I am not ashkari and that my explanation of your actions may be…flawed."

I'd already considered that last but Sten's take on things did sound reasonable to me. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Are you meditating as you stated you would?"

I dropped my head. "Not as often as I should." Actually, a lot less often. I haven't just sat since getting to Orzammar.

"You must do so regularly."

"I know. I'll try."

"It was not a suggestion."

Sten's not in my chain of command but I nodded anyway. "Understood." I stood and gave him a small bow. "Thanks."

"You are welcome. However-"

I stopped at the doorway.

"You should take advantage of the sparring arena. Physical exertion is a recommended method of dealing with emotional distress."

"Hmph. Good idea. Thanks again."

* * *

><p><strong>Late afternoon<strong>

"Wynne, how are you doing?"

She looked up from her sewing and considered me warmly. "I'm well, thank you."

I'm pretty sure she wasn't lying. She'd taken a couple of shallow but messy cuts during the ambush, but the reason she'd been on the ground was because she'd tripped over her own feet trying to dodge worse injuries. Having three (well, two and a half) healers in the group meant she got her share of magical healing once we'd made it back to the Compound; Morrigan patched her up enough to work on Neria. The worse damage she had was slashed robes.

"But how are you doing?"

I gave her a frustrated smile. "I could be better. I was wondering if you could give me a once-over so I can go blow off some steam."

Wynne set her damaged robes aside. "You didn't really answer my question."

"I know. I'm not doing as well as I'd like. Sten suggested a sparring session-"

Wynne face registered shock at that.

"-not with him! I was just gonna to the sparring room and take out my frustration on a training dummy. No, not Alistair. And no, I don't mean it like that." I raised my hand and flexed it and winced. "But I can't do that without…."

Wynne stood up with the same warm expression. "Of course." She took my hand in her smaller, softer and definitely more delicate hand. The itchy warmth spread as she rubbed a thumb over the aches and gently massaged my hand and forearm with her other hand. Wynne was actually concentrating on my hand, but the touch was surprisingly sensual. She suddenly looked up at me. "Are you well?"

I was a little flushed and a bit aroused. "I, uh, never mind. Head's not on straight."

Whether she was deliberately working me up or didn't notice at all I can't say because she didn't give anything away. "How's that?"

She was still holding my hand but I flexed it in her gentle grip. "Pretty good. It's still stiff, but the pain's gone."

That earned me a smile and a nod. "Good." Wynne squeezed my hand then shot a burst of healing energy through it. "I'd tell you to be careful, but I think you're old enough to know that already."

"Yeah, I will. This is one case when I think I am."

"That's good to hear." Wynne released me but quickly spoke again. "If you need to talk I'm here."

"Maybe later, but thanks."

A long, hard workout ensued. It was followed by a nice warm bath. Sten was right; I do feel better.

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

"Selda," Leliana said, "this is superb."

"I must agree," Zevran added. "It reminds me of some Antivan dishes."

Neria had sampled her plate reluctantly. "We eat a lot of fish at the Tower," she explained. But after trying it she smiled. "This is wonderful."

"It is," Wynne added. "Very different, but good."

"'Tis much better than any fish Mother – or I - ever prepared."

I had to agree. "This is very good. By far the best thing I've eaten in Ferelden."

Sten was shoveling in his dinner with the same gusto as Alistair. He came up for air and rumbled, "Delicious."

"Excellent," Alistair said, but he'd already added a second helping to his plate before even tasting it.

Baked fish with stewed veggies and other stuff for dinner, which, frankly, surprised the hell out of me and a few others. Turns out there's an underground lake a couple caverns over. It's not huge, but it's big enough to provide a small, but reliable, supply of fish to the dwarves who can afford it. Which of course led to the question of how Selda was able to get hold of it. Easy answer: a few minutes before she'd set the plates out she gave us a short announcement. "Lords, ladies; something special. Fish, compliments of Lord Harrowmont, prepared as my mother taught me."

Selda, clearly pleased at the praise, bowed to us all. "Lords, ladies. I'm glad you enjoy it."

We'd shot some cautious looks around the table, but the food smelled good, and its origin didn't throw anybody off their appetite.

In fact, Alistair even extended his compliment. "Selda, you do your mother honor with this meal."

The dwarf actually lost her composure and blushed a little. She gave Alistair that formal bow and said, "You are too kind, my lord Warden. But I shall tell my mother of your praise." She turned and scurried back to the kitchen.

That got eyes on Alistair. "It's a, uh, formal…dwarven compliment," he stammered. "It's supposed to be used for something very finely done."

"As this is." Sten reached another helping. No big deal, there was plenty to go around.

After that there was just eating and talking of nothing in particular, at least until Selda brought out some dessert. First mugs of strong tea, and then, "Honey and nuts from above ground, compliments of Lord Bhelen, baked with spices into bread."

I'd missed the 'Lord Bhelen' part the first time around. I was too distracted by what Selda'd put in front of me. "Baklava!"

Selda paused from where she was placing a triple portion in front of Sten. "My lord warrior?"

"A pastry a lot like this one from where I'm from." Well, it wasn't really baklava. More like a croissant with baklava filling. Still, I was literally drooling.

So was Sten. He'd dipped his finger in the warm, sticky, goo flowing out of the pastry and tasted the results. A rare, faint smile touched his lips. "Housekeeper, you fulfill your role with skill. You are worthy of respect." He inclined his head to her.

Selda looked confused. "My lord giant?"

Sten couldn't answer; he'd taken a careful bite that he was enjoying with obvious bliss.

Alistair spoke up again. "It's his way of saying you again honor your mother."

Selda looked at Sten as she continued placing the desserts. The Qunari inclined his head again. Selda actually looked a little panicked. "Thank you, my lord."

"Alistair," Wynne teased, "you'll enjoy it more if you eat slowly."

"'Tis most wonderful, but far too rich." Morrigan was only nibbling at her portion.

"Bhelen," Neria said.

"What's that?" I said around a small bite of sweet cinnamon-flavored heaven. It was the first real treat I've had since the ice cream in the mage tower.

"When Harrowmont stopped by this morning…." She shook her head and trailed off while staring at her pastry.

Alistair was mopping up some stray syrup with a piece of bread. "It's like nothing we're doing makes any difference. The thieves' guild you went after revealed what they'd done for Bhelen. Harrowmont said five houses switched support to him, but he lost two because-" He looked to Neria. "How did he put it?"

Neria glared at her blameless pastry. "They admired Bhelen's 'brass neck.' Whatever that means."

"It means he plays the Game to win," Leliana said very softly.

"It means," Alistair said with a frown at the redhead, "that two houses switched from Harrowmont to Bhelen. So did one of the undecided houses."

"They are still deadlocked, are they not?"

"They are, I think-"

My own pastry-induced bliss was rapidly evaporating. "Can we talk about something besides politics?"

I hadn't snapped (at least, I didn't think I did) but there was still an awkward silence.

I dropped my head and rubbed my eyes. "I'm sorry. Everybody." And I thought that workout had cleared my head.

Sten's voice rolled over us. "I agree. This meal should be enjoyed as was intended by its preparer. Speaking of the dwarven succession can only sully the experience." He took another careful bite of his pastry.

"That is a most excellent idea," Zevran said with his usual zest. "This pastry, it reminds me of something I had in Orlais once…."

It took a moment, but the conversation started up again.

Wynne leaned over towards me. "Are you well?" she whispered.

No, I wasn't. I was dreading the 'Assembly is still deadlocked' announcement for the obvious reasons, and then when I got it- I did not – and do not – want to make that Deep Road trek. That means getting back with L&E and fast. And I have no idea how I'll be able to do that. I don't know how many houses the Wardens' support is worth, but if L&E can get something together quick then maybe that'll be enough to push one candidate over the top. I wasn't thinking that at the time; I was thinking 'ah shit, Deep Roads here we come.'

I whispered back to Wynne. "Yeah, but I'm still kinda wound up. I'll be okay."

Not sure if she believed me or not, but she let it go then asked about my hand.

"It's just a tiny bit stiff, but it doesn't hurt." That was the truth.

"Let me look at it later."

"Sounds good."

* * *

><p>"Andraste's flaming knickers!" Alistair's voice rang out of the library, so I stuck my head in.<p>

Leliana's quietly amused voice answered. "Shocked. Shocked I am at such language."

Alistair frowned at the bard. "That was for a bottle of Antivan brandy?"

"Si, mio amico." She smiled saucily.

Alistair plopped back in his chair, annoyance on his face. "I wish you all would quit doing that."

I couldn't resist taking a little shot. "Oh, don't sulk. It doesn't become you."

Alistair gave me a sour stare. "You don't know how expensive Antivan brandy is."

"Then play for something cheaper."

"Only if she spots me another hound."

Leliana was setting the board up. "I do not think I could overcome that disadvantage."

"Exactly."

"Well, good luck. To Alistair, I guess." Then I got to the question I needed to ask. "Have either of you seen my armor?"

"That's a difficult thing to misplace." Alistair's delivery was perfectly deadpan. "Hmm. Are you sure it didn't end up in the laundry?"

"Pretty sure. I even picked up my socks, it's not under them."

Alistair turned serious. "Well, I don't know how you'll feel about this, but all our damaged gear was picked up this morning by some of Bhelen's men. They're taking it for repairs." He gave a sardonic seated half-bow. "Compliments of Lord Bhelen. Sorry we didn't tell you earlier."

"Don't worry about it. Thanks." I turned to go.

"Jeffrey," Leliana called. "Why do you need your armor?"

"I've been summoned to House Dam but Thrand won't let me out of the building without it."

Alistair looked concerned. "Summoned to House Dam?"

"That's the house Bodahn sold my lifter to. I guess they've got more questions about it."

Both Leliana and Alistair looked concerned.

"Don't worry. Thrand's giving me a good escort."

"Thrand's all right with this?"

"Not really, but…." Thrand told me he couldn't ignore a request from three houses.

"If you're sure…."

"I am. Guess I'll throw on the chainmail again."

"All right. But be careful."

* * *

><p><strong>30August (day 74), very early morning<strong>

Erlind greeted me with the enthusiasm he'd been lacking when we last parted. "Topsider!" He clapped my hand with his monster paw. "Come on! Got something to show you! It's not a secret; we'll get to those later." He eyeballed my escorts and grinned. "Your guards'll have to stay out here, though."

The guards Captain Thrand assigned to me started to object.

Erlind wasn't having it, but reassured them anyway. "Don't worry; I'll watch over him." He placed a hand over his heart. "By the beard of my grandsire, no harm shall come to my guest."

That more than satisfied the guards. We left them in a sitting room; Erlind snagged a convenient servant to bring them snacks. We wove through the living quarters while my host gave me a running tour. Erlind can move pretty fast on those short legs; I was hustling a bit to keep up without cracking my head on the odd low ceiling or a door frame, but managed to make it safely to the workshop. There were only a handful of dwarves working instead of the full crew the last time I was there.

"Gilby!" Erlind shouted.

A gray-haired, beardless dwarf popped his head up from behind a low table. Well, all of the tables are low.

"Bring that bucket I had you finish over here!"

"Yes, m'lord!" Gilby grabbed something from his workstation and trotted over with it. It did look like a bucket.

Erlind grabbed the bucket. "If you've got work get back to it. Otherwise go home! That goes for all you sods!" He handed the bucket off to me. "Here you go, topsider. Go ahead, try it on. It's yours; it's what you asked for."

It wasn't a bucket, but a helmet. It's lighter than it looks, but I have no doubt it's strong. I'm pretty sure it's a steel alloy, but it appears to be anodized somehow; there's a reddish tinge to the metal. But what really struck me was the design. There's an opening for the mouth, but there's a little folding door that can be closed across the opening. There's a similar thing for the eye slits; when open there's a pretty good field of vision, but if you close it you can only see what's right in front of you. There's also a mesh of leather straps on the inside designed to hold it in place, I fiddled with them for a moment then dropped the bucket over my brain. I still need to adjust the fit, but I don't have any real complaints. And it's surprisingly light; no worse than a Kevlar.

"Put your goggles back on now," Erlind instructed. "Now bend down."

The eye door was open and large enough to put my glasses on through it. When I leaned over Erlind reached up and closed the little shutter. There was plenty of space around the glasses.

"Nice."

"Thought you'd like it. Even had that boy of Bodahn's work a lyrium rune into it." Erlind twisted his mouth. "Sky-addled, that one is, but he knows how to work the metal." He thumped me on the hip. "Come on. Got someone you need to meet."

I pulled the helmet back off as I followed Erlind back to the private workshop we'd tested the black powder in. There were three other dwarves there; Lamond, and a couple of dwarves I didn't know.

Lamond nodded a greeting at me. "Topsider."

I nodded back. "Lamond."

"Duarter [sp?], this is the topsider I told you about."

Duarter has dark brown hair and a matching beard that, like every one I've seen so far, is intricately braided. But his hair hangs down in two long braids; all four braids are held in place by some kind of shiny metal. Steel, I think. His dark eyes flicked over and dismissed me immediately. "Is he the one-"

"Yep," Lamond answered.

"Doesn't look like a crafter."

"More like a Shaper, I'd say."

"Have to disagree with you there. But you're right: he does look like a stupid stack of meat."

I glanced down at Erlind.

Erlind looked back at me and shrugged. "No physical harm."

Whatever.

Lamond kept trash-talking me. "Well, aside from his lack of manners he seems to be a good sort."

Duarter snorted. "You don't know that until he's had a chance to bend you over a table."

Lamond barked a laugh. "We had him bent over pretty good the other waking."

"And he can still walk? Are you getting old?"

Another barked laugh. "Ah, I love doing business with you!"

Erlind jumped in. "You two done?"

Duarter gave me another critical look. "For now."

Erlind laughed himself. "Good enough. Alright. Jeff, you already know Lamond, but allow me to present Duarter, Smith of House Hagen, and his son, Joastin [sp?], Smith of House Hagen. Duarter, Joastin, allow me to present Jeff- You got a house, or just a second name like most topsiders?"

I bowed to Duarter. "Jeffrey ******, soldier, United States Army."

Duarter snorted. "Sodding padam [?], a warrior?"

I shrugged. "Retired."

"That seems more likely. But they tell me you're – well, not a Shaper. A scholar maybe."

"I try."

"I hope so." Duarter nodded at his son. "This is Joastin. He's a pretty good crafter, but he's got a ways to go."

I nodded to Duarter's younger incarnation. "Good to meet you."

Joastin just nodded back to me. "Ser."

Erlind smacked my hip again. "Have a seat."

The dwarves plopped down around a table into some dwarf-height chairs. Erlind had the foresight to pull a small table up for me to sit on.

Lamond started the conversation. "You wanna tell him?"

"Tell me what?"

"We told Duarter about the powder." Erlind didn't look apologetic or embarrassed. He just stated a fact.

But, "I kinda figured that."

Duarter snorted again. "So you're not as stupid as you look."

"Depends on the situation."

That got a chuckle out of him.

"What I don't understand is why you're…in on this. And why Joastin's here."

The four of them started peeking around the table at each other. There was a silent conversation going on that I wasn't party to. Finally, though, the dwarves seemed to come to an agreement and nodded at me in unison.

"Joastin here," Erlind started, "is one of the better smiths of his age."

The young dwarf gave me a small unhappy smile.

Lamond continued. "And by age I mean he's young to be so talented. I may be better than him right now, but he's got a lot more years in front of him to keep learning. We knew you needed a good smith for this, and we figured this is gonna end up being very important, so we got with Duarter and worked out a deal. You don't need to worry about that. What you do need to worry about is that we'll take your information." He looked down his nose at my new helmet. "We're willing to pay for it even if you aren't really selling."

Erlind jumped back in. "Speaking of which, what other plans you got for this?"

I decided against telling about the journals at the Circle Tower. "None." Although that was more or less true.

"None?"

"None." But I had a ding moment. "Although I'm reserving the right to pass on to whoever I see fit. But," I added sharply before any of them could react, "right now I'm passing this to you exclusively. The only other dwarves who'll get this information will be the ones you give it to."

More glances, this time suspicious, ran around the table. This time Duarter asked the question. "Dwarves. You planning on giving this to the topsiders?"

"Doesn't matter if I do or not. This'll get out on its own. Eventually you'll start selling what I'm gonna tell you about topside. But-" I leaned forward to emphasize my point. "-you're getting the information _and_ you've got the expertise to make it work. Even if they get the info topsiders don't have the skills to use it. As far as I know. I do know I don't have the skills to use it."

More glances then Duarter spoke again. "Give us a moment. In private."

"No problem." I levered myself up and stepped out into the main workshop area. There were only a couple of dwarves wrapping up projects; one left while I stood there watching. The other one watched me back while working.

It only took a couple minutes. Erlind called me back in and had another question for me. "You said this'll help against the darkspawn. How is it different from the blasting powder we already have?"

"It's not the powder," I answered. "It's what you do with it." I pulled out a sheet of parchment that I'd made some drawings on and laid it on the table. "This, gentlemen, is a shotgun." Hopefully you know what a shotgun is, or at least have the basic idea. I have a quite a bit more, but the dwarves don't even have that. I had to give them a quick lecture in Newton's First Law and firearm theory. But then, I kinda figured that would have to happen.

What I didn't figure would happen was how quickly they'd have their ding moment. I ended up standing outside watching the lone dwarf clean up his bench and leave for the night while a quiet argument went on inside the private shop. When Erlind called me back in he was subdued and they all looked a little shaky. Joastain looked scared on top of that, but asked me to tell him more.

What I also didn't figure would happen was me being grilled by an engineer and some builders. Joastin came out of his shell; he's quiet but smart and was definitely driving the conversation. After I gave him and the others the basic info they started asking questions about shotguns that I really didn't know how to answer. And just because they're ignorant of firearms doesn't mean they're stupid. We ended up making lots of drawings and diagrams that answered questions I didn't even know needed to be asked. Questions about grinding powder led to answers about preloaded shells. That led to a discussion about breech versus muzzle loading. Questions about shotguns led to answers involving smoothbores and rifles. Questions about those led to a talk about Qunari cannons (and dire warnings to not let any Qunari know about this), and that led back to answers about canister rounds and rockets.

We talked for a long time. Don't know exactly how long, but when our stomachs started growling Erlind sent for some food. The break gave me a chance to ask a couple questions of my own.

"The succession. If you don't mind, how are your houses voting?"

"Undecided."

"Harrowmont."

"Harrowmont. But," Erlind added, "this is gonna change things. A lot, and forever. Bhelen's a sodding hump, but he'll let us use this." He tapped the papers resting on the table. "Harrowmont'll hear the Mining Caste squeal about the powder and the Warrior Caste complain about the new weapons and he'll ban it."

Lamond set his jaw. "Hadn't thought of that. Should have. Remember the stories about crossbows?"

Duarter looked uncomfortable. "You're probably right, but my house owes Harrowmont too much. It'll take a lot more than just…speculating to change our vote."

Lamond fixed his eyes on me. "The Wardens still supporting Bhelen?"

I winced internally. "As far as I know. How much good does that do, anyway?"

Erlind answered with a shake of his head. "Not much. Some undecided houses might follow the Wardens, but anybody who's made up their minds won't switch." Another tap on the papers. "We make this work – well, that'll shake up the Assembly."

"How long…?" I was hoping this could get done quick.

All eyes turned to Joastin. He was still in engineering mode and thinking deep thoughts. "Oh, uh…." He examined the papers and took his time before speaking. He said a few technical things and finished with, "If everything goes perfectly I think we could have a working model in twenty wakings or so."

"Three weeks?"

Joastin wrinkled his brow. "I think that's how you'd measure it. But that's only if everything works perfectly the first time."

"If…."

"Right. You've saved us from a lot of dark paths, but there's still a lot to figure out. And-"

"And things never go perfectly," I finished.

He gave me his scared smile. "You understand."

"Yeah, I do." I addressed the older dwarves. "So will the Assembly just sit around deadlocked until…?"

Duarter snorted and swore under his breath.

Lamond nodded resignedly. "The humpings deshyrs wanna sign from the Ancestors. Something solid as stone and big as the mountain. I'd even wager some houses are even switching their votes back and forth to keep the deadlock until they get it. Rutting bastards."

Duarter swore again.

"Yes, I know!" Lamond snapped. "My house too!" He glared at Duarter who just snickered in reply.

The rest of us sat there and ate while the those two went back and forth. I was in my own deep thoughts, but they were about the succession and the Assembly and what exactly was going to be needed to break that deadlock. I suddenly had that same feeling of helplessness wash over me that had hit me at dinner. Deep Roads here we come.

"What's that?" Erlind leaned into me.

I'd been thinking aloud all evening. Great for when you're brainstorming ideas, but not so much when you're trying to keep secrets. "Me forgetting to use my inside voice."

That got a laugh, but Erlind didn't let go. "You said something about doom and the Deep Roads."

I looked around the table. We'd lost our critical mass: Joastin was eating quietly; Lamond and Duarter were still arguing politics, and Erlind looked bored. And I was suddenly dead tired.

"I think it's time for me to go." I snatched up the journal and my new helmet and stood up.

Joastin glanced at me and nodded a goodbye. The arguers didn't notice.

Erlind stood up. "Allow me to walk you out." We headed back through the main workshop but Erlind stopped me before we reached the house. "I know you've got your secrets, but what was that about the Deep Roads?" When I didn't answer I could hear the wheels turning in Erlind's head. He motioned me down to him. "Something to do with Branka?" he asked quietly.

I'm pretty sure I kept a straight face.

Erlind's not stupid, though. "Yeah. That would do it. Get the Paragon's word and everyone else would follow along." He nodded as the wheels clicked into place. "I see what you're trying to do. Explains a bit, too. But…Branka? You go looking for her and you'll need the Ancestors' own luck."

I stayed quiet, but internally agreed.

"Fine. Don't say anything. But I'll hold your secret; just don't expect me to not act on it." He slapped my hip. "Go home. Get some sleep. Send a note if you need to, but I'll be in touch soon."

All of those were good ideas. "I'll do that." Despite the exhaustion I think I masked my disappointment and despair at the way things shook out. "Thanks. For everything."

Erlind picked up on something. "You're welcome, but don't feel bad. If this works out the way I think it will you've given us better odds against the darkspawn. I won't forget that." He jerked his head towards the private workshop. "And I'll make sure they don't." He smacked my hip again; this time it was hard enough to stagger me. "Go home."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm glad everybody enjoyed Leliana's interlude. Like I said in my last notes it was very difficult to drop my normal voice and switch to the bard's more 'epic' tone. I'd actually written about half the chapter from Jeff's POV but didn't like the feel; it was just another dungeon crawl with nothing special going on until the very end. So I rewrote a few paragraphs using Leliana's POV, had_ **Beta Reader** _take a look, and ran with it. The hardest part of the writing was switching back and forth between Jeff's and Leliana's voices, although switching out the punctuation was tough, too. Will I do this again? I might, but if I do it'll be because Jeff's either incapacitated or just doesn't want to write._

_I'd like to welcome _**Bosgu, moosesaregreat, Lethum, Stack Pointer, tkioz, Enigmatic Magus, Mr. Jay black, and Mivichi**_ to ranks of followers and favers. Again, apologies if I've missed anybody. I really appreciate the support everybody out there is giving me!_

**Oplindenfep:** _Huh?_

**Pint-sized She-Bear:** _Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it!_

**Writer-Supreme, Phygmalion:** _When I started this I figured things would be wrapped up by now. _**MoN**_ has taken on a life of its own and has grown into an epic undertaking. But give me another handful of chapters and we'll see if I can get things finished._

**Hoppette:** _Thank you! I always felt DA was an immersive world, but some things that happen in-game aren't even acceptable breaks from reality. And again, I really hate that fight with Jarvia; I think it's one of the hardest in the game just because of how you're thrown into it._

**Zgogery:** _MINOR SPOILER: I can't say how things will work out between Jeff and Sten. But I do have plans to take things into Awakenings._

**AD Lewis, Gillian Grayson:** _Wouldn't it be cool if DA had Paragon (especially for the dwarves) and Renegade interrupts? And they were tuned for your class?_

"What's the password?" "Shield bash!" _or _"Low blow!" "Huh?" _Crunch._

**SnowHelm:** _Glad you're enjoying it!_

**InsidiousAgent:** _I have a love-hate relationship with onion rings myself, but I'm willing to put up with the hate part. MINOR SPOILER: Jeff's and Neria's specializations will be addressed soon._

**Moiradeathwidow: **_Thanks, and where have you been?_


	62. AotV 10M LF 1xDPS

**30 August (day 74), late afternoon**

Another night with not enough sleep, although I crashed out through and missed breakfast. At least Selda's nice enough to let us scrounge around in the kitchen between meals.

"And you're hardly a bother, my lord," she said. "When the Wardens are here in numbers the kitchen never sleeps." Her face suddenly became haunted. "It'll be some time before that happens again, won't it, my lord?"

"Most likely."

"Then, my lord, if I may…?" At my nod she continued. "Watch over Warden Alistair and Warden Neria. I'd hate for anything bad to come to them."

"I'm doing my best."

I don't think that satisfied her but Selda bowed and intoned, "Thank you, my lord. And may there only be stone beneath your feet."

* * *

><p>A bowl of soup and a hunk of bread later I was sitting at the dining table hoping food would help fight the headache I've still got. Not much luck with that even now. Not enough sleep and too much worry tends to add up. And at the time I was planning to just sit quietly, eat, and grab a history from the library that would hopefully knock me out. But the Warden compound, as spacious as it is, doesn't have much privacy when there's eight others walking around it.<p>

"Ah, mio amico." Zevran considered me carefully. "You look, well, exhausted."

I answered as quick as I could without choking. "Late night last night."

"Si. I understand. I've had my share of late nights as well." His expression turned serious and his voice dropped. "And that is why I wish to speak to you."

I waved a hand at my brunch. "Now? Really? Can it wait?"

"There is some concern about your activities. About your visits to-"

I gave Zevran a bleary stare then interrupted. "'Concern'? Whose? Yours?"

"Mine. And others."

Before he could continue I dropped my spoon and rubbed my eyes. I did not need this. But the proprieties must be observed. "Could you at least put a knife on the table in a vaguely threatening manner?"

"Anything for you, mio amico." He pulled a small, wickedly sharp looking blade from somewhere and proceeded to trim his fingernails with it. From the parings he was getting the knife _is_ wickedly sharp. "Better?"

I shoved a piece of bread in my mouth and nodded. "Be-uh."

"Now that the formalities are observed I would ask you, in a friendly way, of course-"

"Of course."

"-of your intentions regarding your visits to the blacksmiths. You shouldn't need long, late hours to answer a few simple questions."

Oy. "They weren't simple questions."

"Oh, I know that. What I don't know is why your actions have been so circumspect." Zevran kept working on shaving invisible slices from his fingernails while raising an eyebrow at me.

"I suppose it wouldn't do any good to say I can't tell?"

Zevran considered that answer before speaking. "I would be…somewhat satisfied. There are others who would be less so."

'Others'? Neria would come straight to me. Alistair would, too. Sten probably so. Wynne definitely. Cullen would take a chunk out of me the instant he doesn't trust me. Leliana trusts me explicitly. I think. "Morrigan?" I actually swiveled my head around to check the room.

"She has her doubts about you." Zevran shrugged. "And I've had some raised, but none that make me fear for the Wardens or their safety. Know that I am simply satisfying my curiosity."

Any implications Zevran had went right over my aching head. I just gave him a straight answer. "Please believe me when I say I'm not doing anything that will harm the Wardens. Or interfere with combating the Blight."

That got me an inclined head. "And I believe you, but I am concerned that what you are doing could have unforeseen conseguense."

My response to that was to laugh. It's hard to do with a mouthful of soggy bread.

Zevran leaned over thumped me on the back as my laughter became choking. Using the hand that wasn't holding the knife, fortunately. "Mio amico, are you well?"

It took me a minute to stop choking and coughing. Zevran didn't notice the laughing; that was disguised by my distress.

"Mio amico?"

"I'm okay," I finally gasped. "Breathing soup is-" Cough.

"It is inadvisable, no?"

"Yes."

"Again, then: I would ask you what you're planning."

I threw out a huge sigh so I could gather my thoughts. And my breath. The question I was facing was how much to tell Zevran. If I dumped the info about gunpowder I couldn't guarantee it wouldn't get back to Sten. I'm not too worried about him finding out about the dwarves having the knowledge; if all goes well by the time he does it'll be too late to do anything. But if Sten knows what I know- That's a scary thought. OTOH, if I didn't tell Zevran – or at least Morrigan – enough to satisfy their curiosity I could be waking up dead. If I'm lucky.

I finally pushed out an answer. "I…can't say exactly why, but I was hoping this would be big enough, important enough to change the voting balance. For the king. And in case you're wondering I still support Bhelen." I felt the frustration welling up again and the headache strengthened with it. "It's not gonna happen. They're gonna want us to go into the Deep Roads after Branka."

Okay. I didn't mean to blurt that out, but it happened. Zevran's eyebrows created little sonic booms as they shot up; their return trip was only somewhat slower.

I kept going. "Oh, come on. I know you've heard the talk and the rumors, and, damnit, the dwarves themselves keep saying they want a sign. 'Rock solid and mountain high' was how one of them put it. And a Paragon's word is about as big as it gets."

If it was a rant it was a short and quiet and calm one because Zevran just sat there and nodded as I finished speaking. "I see," he said. "And have you told the Wardens of your thoughts?"

I just shook my head.

"Know this: I believe you have the Wardens' best interest at heart, but the other suspicious individuo is more skeptico of your motives than I. Now eat. I will fetch the Wardens, and you must tell them your thoughts."

Zevran stepped out; I got a few more bites into me before Alistair and Neria came in. Alistair was flushed and sweaty; Neria looked sleepy and grumpy. Neria plopped down across from me; Alistair stood and leaned on a chair. Zevran quietly stood in the doorway and gave us a bit of privacy with his distance.

"Jeff," Alistair started, "Zevran said you-"

Neria jumped in. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Tired. Fuzzy. Got a headache."

"You need to rest." Neria hopped up. "Just a moment." She disappeared into the kitchen.

Alistair watched her go then glanced back at the door. "Zevran said you said something about the Deep Roads and that Paragon."

I nodded back at him. "Yeah, but let's wait until Neria gets back."

Alistair considered that then took a seat. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look…."

"Rough?"

That earned me a grin. "I was going to say exhausted."

"Not much sleep – good sleep – the last couple of nights."

"I can tell. Sleeping in didn't help?"

"Not a bit."

"Too bad." And he meant it, too.

We both started when Neria came back in, a steaming mug in her hand. She put it down on the table in front of me.

"What's this?"

"Sleepy tea. Drink."

"But-"

She kept going in the no-nonsense tone she's learned from Wynne. "You need some rest, and this'll help."

"Can't you just-"

"No. You need some rest. Drink."

I eyeballed Alistair. "Do I look that bad?"

He gave me a 'yeah, sorry' smile and nodded.

"You do, mio amico."

"Hmph." I took a careful sip. There was honey in it but the tea was still too hot to drink. But it did taste like the stuff they gave me at the Tower.

Neria frowned and reached. She touched the mug carefully and I felt cool flowing around my hand. "There. Better?"

I took another sip. Still a bit too hot, but just uncomfortably so rather than tongue-blistering.

"Good," Alistair said. "So what's this about the Deep Roads and the Paragon?"

Big heavy 'weight of the world on my shoulders' sigh. "Okay." I told them about the conversation I'd had with Erlind and company last night. Including the part about the houses switching votes.

Zevran swore quietly in Antivan. "Bastarde!"

Alistair swore slightly more loudly in Fereldan. "Andraste's tits!"

Neria didn't say anything but she looked like she could use a cup of sleep herself. She buried her face in her hands for a moment then finally shuddered. "The fucking bastards!" She lifted and shook her head at me. "Drink! Do you think-" She stopped and shook her head at the room. "The fucking bastards!"

Alistair grumbled. "I think I have to agree with you."

"And who would the fucking bastards be, my lady?"

We all turned to stare at Selda.

She bustled out and placed a stack of dishes on the table. "If you're speaking of the house lords, my lady, I have to agree with you as well. But you didn't hear me say that." The housekeeper gave Neria a bow and headed back to the kitchen.

Zevran chuckled from his post.

"I swear that woman has more common sense than the rest of us together," Alistair muttered.

Neria mumbled under her breath then repeated herself. "You don't think they'll want us to go after this Paragon, do you?"

I nodded my head. "I think they – maybe – probably – sincerely want that sign. But the only way they'll get it is if something insane happens."

"There's that word again. Drink."

"Yeah." I took another careful sip.

"I don't think you're insane. But the dwarves…." Heavy sigh. "Drink!"

I had to smile at that then checked the tea. Down to piping warm, so I took a swig. "Happy?"

"I'd be happier if I really knew what we're doing here."

I thought I had an answer to that but backed off. "I don't think I understand."

"We came here to see if the dwarves would give us an army, right? But they're using us- Aah!" Neria buried her face in her hands again.

Alistair asked the big question. "Do you really think they'll send us into the Deep Roads after that Paragon? They said it's been what? Two years? How do they expect us to find…her?"

I dived in. "There's a Warrior Caste dwarf named Oghren. He's…was…Branka's husband. He claims to know something about where they went, so…if you track him down he might be willing to help."

Alistair nudged Neria. "I remember him. That was that red-haired dwarf we saw arguing with the guard a few days ago."

Neria looked up and around. "The one who smelled like a mug of beer?"

Chuckle. "Like a stale mug of beer. But," Alistair added as he turned serious again, "the Deep Roads? Wouldn't we be better off waiting for the dwarves to sort things out themselves?"

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

Alistair continued. "We could leave; head to Redcliffe. Then go find the elves. Then come back here. They might have sorted things out by then."

"That could take months," Neria objected.

"They'll probably need months."

"But we don't have months, do we?"

Alistair twitched like he'd been stung by something large and hairy. "I…don't really know."

"Oh, Maker, Alistair! Is this another one of those things Duncan didn't tell you?"

Alistair's expression tightened up at that but he stayed cool. "Duncan told me the darkspawn don't come above ground much during the winter, but during a Blight? Who knows?"

"Well I don't!" Neria's head snapped around and locked on to me. "Drink!" As I started to drink she went back to Alistair. "I am tired of being here and being pulled back and forth! Maybe we should go to Redcliffe and let the dwarves sort themselves out!"

As much I'd like to do just that I don't know if it would happen. Even if Joastin gets a prototype working in a month or so that's probably not enough to shake things out in the short run. If that's even enough to make the dwarves get their heads out of their asses. Even if they can get their heads out enough to see the real danger. If, if, if. And if we walk away? Will we get the chance to come back? If we want the dwarves' help is walking away and coming back even feasible?

I had a death grip on the mug and was ready to speak but Zevran raised the same objection. "Mio capo bella. I believe simply turning our backs on the dwarves would be malacorto. Most unwise, that is."

I jumped in. "I don't know if they need us, but they certainly want us. To solve their problems. Well, their big problem. And Zevran's right: if we walk away…I don't know what'll happen."

Zevran bowed to me. "If we walk away this grand city may not welcome us back."

Neria scowled. It was an ugly look on her face. "I'm ready to walk away."

Alistair bugged his eyes out. "Maker, no! We can't-!"

Neria kept scowling. "We shouldn't. I'd like to, but we shouldn't. But a deep trip into the Deep Roads? Jeffrey, are you sure about this?"

At her look I took another drink of tea. "I'm sure. That's what they're gonna want us to do."

"But can we even do it?"

I dropped my head and nodded slowly. "Yeah, we can do it. It won't be easy."

"Nothing ever is," Alistair muttered.

I kept going. "But we've done everything else we've tried so far, haven't we? Yeah, if we do this we'll get it done. But it's gonna suck big time. And we'll probably end up-"

Neria'd reached out and put a finger on my lips. "That was fast. Alistair, help Jeffrey to his room, but then we need to talk. Privately. Jeffrey: go get some sleep."

I didn't think I was feeling the tea but I'd drunk half the mug. "Yes, ma'am." I lurched to my feet and waved off Alistair's arm, but he stayed with me.

"Deep Roads, Jeff? Really?" I'm not sure how he sounded. Worried would be my best guess.

"Positive."

I guess I really sounded positive because Alistair gave me a slow, confident nod and a grim smile. "If you really think so, then I believe you. Go get some sleep."

He still sounded worried.

* * *

><p><strong>1 Kingsway (day 75), very early morning<strong>

Interstate 4 runs directly through Orlando. It's not that hard to navigate even if you don't know the area. You drive east to go north, and west to go south. (It makes sense in context.) Remember that along with the exit that takes you to Disney World and you're good to go. So why the hell was I lost?

It was a beautiful Florida day. Not too hot for a change, a nice breeze, and a pleasant place in the shade to sit and study a road atlas. I'd taken a wrong exit into the downtown area and somehow ended up the most lost I ever was. So I did the sensible thing: parked the car, found a decent little mom-and-pop restaurant, and had some lunch. Trouble was I needed to get back on the road but I had no idea how to do it.

Good lunch, though, although I can't remember exactly what it was aside from good. But good enough that it made flipping fruitlessly through the road atlas a confusing rather than frustrating experience. Every page had a good, detailed map on it; Boston, DC, Phoenix, Honolulu, and, yes, Orlando. But the Orlando wasn't one I recognized, or at least I couldn't get the map to synch up with the city. Oh, well. I kept flipping through the maps until I reached the back and laughed at the postcard asking for feedback.

[unintelligible but definitely human speech]

I looked up to see a woman – well, an old woman, although that's not the impression I got from her. Matronly might be a better adjective, but she was definitely older than that. Grandmotherly, I suppose, but she didn't seem like the type to bake cookies. She was wearing a long, dark, shapeless dress that completely covered her from neck to feet, and had an intricately detailed black and white paisley scarf over her head. It wasn't pulled down tight, but I couldn't see any hair under it; plus I think seeing her hair would have been disrespectful in some way. Her face was wrinkled; her eyes were black and bright and sparkled even in the shade. She stood completely straight and regarded me the way you'd expect: like a tourist who's inadvertently walked into a locals-only establishment.

I smiled apologetically at the woman. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

[more unintelligible speech] She spoke clearly and simply, but the words were sharp and precise, even though I had no clue what the language was. But she spoke with a tone that implied she was used to having her words listened to with respect.

"Grandmother said you should laugh more."

I didn't flinch at the new speaker; I simply looked at the girl who was translating. She was dressed identically to her grandmother, but her brown hair was poking wildly out from under the scarf. The girl's dress was more suited to her age; it was tailored just enough to reveal the skinny arms and legs of a girl well out of childhood but barely matured enough to be thought of as a woman. To be fair, though, the dress made her look a little older, but the ice cream cone she was holding took the extra years away.

"I think you should laugh more, too. It suits you."

Grandmother spoke again. I listened carefully, but still couldn't make anything out. I gave the woman another 'sorry' smile then turned to the girl. "Could you please tell your grandmother I don't understand?"

"She's not _my_ grandmother; she's _just_ grandmother. And she understands what you're saying." The girl nibbled thoughtfully at her ice cream. Vanilla, I think. "She understands too much, I think."

I took another look at Grandmother. Those eyes were laughing like she and the universe were in together on a private joke. She spoke again.

I waited for Granddaughter to translate but she just looked at GM and ate her ice cream.

I spoke simply to GM. "I…still…don't understand."

"I don't think I do, either." GD gave me a confused look. "She said to look at the last page in your book. But isn't that what you were laughing at?"

"It was, but…."

GM said something short and sharp.

I didn't need a translation. I turned past the postcard but wasn't enlightened by the advertisement for some Kwik-E-Mart chain. So I turned to the back cover and…. "Is…this…the…Deep Roads?"

The girl lowered her cone and peeked over the edge of the atlas. "I think it is."

GM spoke briefly again.

GD looked scandalized. "Really?" she asked while blushing.

GM said a single word. I'm pretty sure it meant 'Yes!'

GD suddenly couldn't meet my eyes. When she spoke it was in the tone that every child in the multiverse has used when embarrassed by an older relative. "Grandmother says 'Grow a pair.'" She suddenly got wide eyes and looked behind me. "And so does Mother."

I turned around to look for Mother but ended up falling on my ass and getting sand down my crack.

[welcoming hiss]

Groan. "Hi." I staggered to my feet and looked around. Nothing. No Florida, no Grandmother, no Granddaughter, no road atlas. Just me and Thing and the Fade and my homey little bubble. A sigh and another groan followed.

[questioning hiss]

"Let's just say it's been a rough few days. Oh, and Lurch is an asshole."

[questioning hiss]

"Don't worry about it.

[hiss]

"I'm not sure, but there's nothing I can do about it, so why worry about it?"

[questioning hiss]

"No!"

[petulant hiss]

"Sorry. I'm just a little wrung out right now." I pulled a box out of nowhere and held it up.

[grumpy hiss]

"Oh, come on. It's not gonna-" I opened the box and jumped and sent the board and pieces flying everywhere. A blue and green postcard fluttered quietly to the ground. 'Take a wrong turn? Tell us about it!' I immediately decided not to touch it.

[curious hiss]

"On second thought let's just sit and talk."

* * *

><p><strong>Late morning<strong>

Leliana leaned in to me and whispered. "How are you feeling?"

I added extra honey to the tea in front of me and whispered back. "Better, but not as good as-"

I was interrupted by Neria's muffled yell from the library.

"As good as I'd like," I finished.

"That is good. Your eyes, though, they are still tired."

She's right. The extra sleep had done me good physically; I don't feel exhausted any longer. Mentally, OTOH- Well, you spend a few completely conscious hours talking to an ethereal alien bug instead of letting your brain downshift into neutral like it's supposed to and even an extra ten hours of sleep doesn't seem like enough.

I looked around the dining room at the others. Yeah, compared to them I probably did look tired, but nobody else noticed. We were listening – trying to listen – to the Wardens as they met with Bhelen, but the library door was closed, Bhelen's men were being uneasily watched by Thrand's guards in the hallway, and the rest of us were confined to the dining room. The only thing we could hear was Neria's outraged yell, although one of the dwarves had done his own shouting a bit earlier.

So we waited mostly quietly. Even Zevran didn't have much to say. The time crawled by slowly and silently; I never knew I could miss the tick of a second hand so much. But, eventually, we heard the library door open and the rustle and clank as armored dwarves snapped to attention.

Bhelen's voice rang out. "Make sure your feet walk a solid path, Wardens." I have no idea if that was a threat or not, but it did sound ominous.

Alistair's reply was much less ambiguous. "May the stone always be under your feet, Lord Bhelen."

Bhelen gave a quiet snort then answered, "And yours, too, Wardens."

Neria was silent. At least she was until the dwarves left the building. "Maker!"

"Well?" Leliana asked. "What did he say?"

Neria scowled. "Same thing Harrowmont did: he wants us to go after Branka."

"And will we?"

The scowl deepened. "Yes. Maker help us."

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

"Lords, ladies-" Selda interrupted our lunch (sorry, here it's dinner) with a wrinkled nose and a distasteful undertone. "may I present, Oghren, uh, warrior."

A red-bearded Tasmanian devil blew through Selda and bellied (well, chested) itself up to the dining table. "I ain't got a rutting house anymore and you know it you sodding [dwarvish]." He threw a book that exploded into a stack of papers that in turn sent an empty platter skittering off the table. Zevran caught the plate and offered it to Selda.

Morrigan wrinkled her nose and Wynne coughed politely. I winced as a miasma of stale beer – make that stale, skunked, beer – washed down the table.

"Hey now!" Alistair didn't raise his voice much but it projected well. "There's not need to be-"

"Don't wanna hear it, pretty boy! You asked for Oghren; you're getting Oghren." He climbed into a free chair and stood over the table. "You! With the nug rump!" He was talking to Selda, I hoped, because otherwise he was probably talking to Sten. "Fetch me a beer! A good one!"

Selda headed for the kitchen. "Sodding…no good…houseless…oughtta be casteless…."

Oghren's bloodshot eyes went around the table and took in each of us of in turn. He finally reached Neria. "Ah! Missy! You're the boss, right?"

Neria seemed to be having second thoughts. "How did you know?"

"I may be drunk but I'm not stupid. Unless maybe there's another Warden that looks like you running around in Orzammar? She's too old, she's too red, she's too elfy, and- And she's too naked. Or maybe not naked enough."

"Watch your tongue and your eyes, dwarf, or I shall-"

"So that makes you the boss. Unless the pretty boy there is."

Alistair recoiled. "'Pretty boy'?"

"Don't worry about it. Just means you got nice hair." Oghren reached out and snagged a random mug, sniffed the contents, shrugged, and drained it. "So, missy, you sent for me. Start talking."

Neria was definitely having second thoughts but kept them to herself. "Your…contenders for the throne-"

"Sodding blighters, you mean."

"-want us to go into the Deep Roads-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Don't rutting treat me like I'm fresh from the stone. Whatta you want from me?"

Neria and Alistair exchanged the look that meant they were sure this wasn't a good idea, but then Neria nodded to me. I nodded back firmly.

That was Neria's cue. I'd coached her on what Oghren wanted out of all this. "We're told you know where Branka went, or at least have a good idea."

Oghren froze. "Yeah. So?"

"We want you to take us there. Be our guide."

Oghren narrowed his eyes and looked fiercely at Neria. "Well, you certainly don't beat around. But why would I wanna do that?"

"Because we'll get you there. And back, too."

"You know, you sound rutting confident when you say that." Snort along with an appraising look around the table. "You're the sods what took down Jarvia's bunch. And made the trip to Aeducan Thaig."

Neria nodded. "Not all of us at once, but yes."

"Can't say that Jarvia didn't have it coming. But that was our business, not yours."

"Bhelen sent us after her."

That got another snort out of Oghren. "Really? Bent her over real good, didn't he? But I guess she managed to bend him over, too, if what I heard's true." He drained another random mug then yelled at the kitchen door. "Hey, nug rump! Where's my beer?"

I'm guessing the mug was Morrigan's because she abruptly pushed away from the table and stood up. "If I am _needed_ you can find me in my room."

Oghren leered as she walked out. Can't blame him, but he needs to learn a little subtlety. Then he held up the mug. "One of you blighters give me a refill?"

"I'm beginning to think this is a very bad idea." Alistair looked like he was ready to walk out himself.

"Keep yourself right there, pretty boy. You asked for me-"

"_She_ asked for you."

"-so you might wanna listen to what I have to say."

"You know Branka," Neria said, "and you know how she thinks, and where she's probably gone, and you know the Deep Roads."

Somebody had refilled Oghren's cup. He hoisted it to Neria. "So one of you's at least as smart as you look."

"And nobody else is willing to go look for her."

Oghren noisily finished drinking. "You're right about that, missy."

"We'll pay you a bit right now and you'll get a share of any coin we find."

"Can't argue with that."

"And you'll have all the darkspawn you can kill."

"Well, that's a given."

"So it's up to you," Neria finished. She waved a hand at the papers Oghren had brought. "We'll pay right now for whatever you can tell us, or we'll pay you more to come with us."

Oghren's face scrunched up. "You want Oghren to come with you?" His eyes darted back and forth. "Even with all the muscle you already got?"

"It's the Deep Roads," Alistair said firmly. "You can never have too much muscle."

Sten's eyes were slits. "An exception might be made in this case."

Oghren's head snapped around. "You calling me out, you…oversized guy…you?"

Sten ignored Oghren and turned to Neria. "Warden, this…individual is intoxicated. For him to speak with us in such a state does not bode well for his future actions."

Neria simply shook her head. "He knows more about the Deep Roads than any of us."

"Rutting right I do!"

"And he's one of the best warriors in Orzammar."

"Rutting right again!" More noisy drinking.

"And he knows Branka and-"

"The sodding bronto."

"-where she might have gone."

Sten considered that then inclined his head. "I defer to your judgment, Warden."

"Hah! Any more of you blighters got a problem with me?"

Wynne looked a little pale, but she was sitting close to the dwarf. "Nothing a bar of soap couldn't help."

Oghren glared at her. "You keep your fancy topsider doo-dads away from me."

"Soap?"

"Sand was good enough for the Ancestors so it's good enough for me!"

Wynne turned a little paler but didn't say anything.

"Oghren!" Neria called. "Do we have a deal?"

Oghren hopped down off his chair and strode around the table to Neria. As he passed me I understood Wynne's objection a bit more clearly, but kept my mouth shut. Alistair coughed as Oghren passed him; Neria managed to only wrinkle her nose.

Oghren gave the girl a good look. "Sodding stone! You're barely whelped!"

Alistair puffed up a little. "She's a Grey Warden, and-"

"And a squishy looking one at that, but you did take Jarvia."

"We did," Neria said quietly.

"You're not yanking me about Branka, are you?"

"No, ser."

"All right then." Oghren suddenly seemed to sober up a little bit. "For as long as you need me I'm your man. Lit paths, dark paths, stone or sand. Heh, that rhymes!" The drunkenness crept back, and the dwarf spit wetly into his hand. "Heard you topsiders seal a deal like this." He offered his hand to Neria.

Neria gave Oghren a smile. "I never have before, but-" She spit into her hand. Dwarf and mage slapped their palms together in a sodden explosion.

"Ah!" Alistair cried. "My eye!"

* * *

><p><strong>Late evening<strong>

Leliana moved in and out, dodging my counterattack as she did. I stepped in as she retreated but kept closing as she reversed her direction again. She grunted as we collided and I punched her wrist, but her right hand came around and she caught me right on the funny bone. My left arm went numb both above and below the elbow. The sparring stick dropped as my hand spasmed then my body dropped as Leliana took the opening to hit me in the ribs.

"Ooh, sonofabitch, you're killin' me, you know that, don't you?" It was the third time she'd put me on the ground this session. At least Wynne- well, Neria's willing to patch me up completely. Wynne'll do it, but she tends to focus on the real injuries and leave the aches and pains in place. 'To make you take the sparring seriously.'

"You keep leaving your left side open. You must remember that you are not carrying a shield." I hadn't heard Sten approach, but I'd been a bit distracted at the time.

"Good advice, but about thirty seconds too late." I kept shaking my arm hoping the feeling would come back to it.

"Oh," Lelianan pouted, "did I set your arm a-tingle?"

"Yeah, and pretty bad. I still can't make it work right."

"You would do better to fetch the older boss seraboss."

"Wynne?" I asked.

"Where is Neria?" Leliana asked. "Is she not well?"

"Our…leader is well." Sten still has a hard time calling her that and not insulting Neria's magery. "But Alistair is subjecting her to what I believe is a…courting ritual." Sten actually looked thoughtful as he spoke. "This is a rare wise decision by Al-"

"Courting ritual!" Leliana squealed. "Where?"

"The Wardens were in the sitting room when I last saw them."

Leliana pressed her sticks into my hand, patted my shoulder, and said, "I am sorry for your arm." She practically sprinted out of the cavern.

I looked at Sten. "I don't suppose you want to spar?"

"That would be unwise of you, especially considering the injury to your arm."

"Okay, good point. Maybe later?"

"That would still be unwise."

"You could have just said, 'No.'"

"You are correct."

"Where's Wynne?"

"I believe she is in her quarters. But I would ask how you are coping with your emotions."

"Definitely better, and better than I thought I would. Which, to be totally honest, is also a bit disturbing."

Sten considered that for a moment. "Your honesty is appreciated. And your self-awareness serves you well."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you been talking to Morrigan?"

"I have not."

"Okay, then." I rubbed my arm. "I'm gonna go find Wynne. Good night, Sten."

"Good night."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry about the update delay, but RL has intruded in the form of work, writer's block, Jim Butcher's _**Cold Days, **_and a season 1 and 2_ **Being Human** _(US version) marathon. In addition, I just found out I'm scheduled for a three-week block of training beginning at the end of the month. I'm planning/hoping to crank out the next couple or three chapters at my regular pace but after that things will slow down._

**phaseroller, Xephon: **_Thanks for the praise!_

**omnigel:** _Jeff's specialization will be addressed very soon._

**Phygmalion, SnowHelm:** _the military has (to its credit) attempted to destigmatize the seeking of psychological help over the last few years. Unfortunately, there's still a lot of resistance at the rank-and-file level, especially among the field grade officers and senior NCOs, and there's a lot of unfounded (and some occasional founded) concern that seeking this kind of help can damage one's career. But Jeff's stuck with talking things out among his companions, including the newest one._

_Jeff's not an engineer, but as you saw he recognizes the limits on his knowledge. If only he'd been wearing his time traveler t-shirt when he arrived…._

**Hoppette:** _Deep Roads coming right up!_

**AD Lewis:** _interrupts would be a lot of fun, but I think Bioware's probably got their plans for DA3 pretty much set in stone right now. Oh, well. We can hope…._

**Gillian Grayson:** _Hope Oghren met your expectations! _

**& InsidiousAgent: **_I don't know that Harrowmont would directly ban gunpowder-based weapons, but I'm taking some inspiration from the Vatican's decree on crossbows. I think it would be more likely that the Mining Caste would complain about the threat to their monopoly on explosives and work to maintain it. As for Orzammar becoming a superpower I don't know if the dwarves have the raw numbers available to do it. (At one point Oghren states the dwarven population is only one percent of the human population.) Then again, dwarven weapons and mercenaries would probably make a quick appearance above ground; Orzammar might become the equivalent of an Italian trade city._

**Shinkansen: **_I really appreciate the thoughtful review. If you get a chance take a look at a couple of books I referenced in my early chapters:_ **The Other Time** _and_ **Lest Darkness Fall**. _They're both modern takes on Twain's _**Connecticut Yankee** _and address the impact a single relatively knowledgeable individual can have on a comparatively primitive society. Eric Flint's_ **1632** _is also pretty interesting in that an entire modern town is transported to the eponymous year. MINOR SPOILER: Jeff's got a lot of basic knowledge as well a little practical experience, but, as I've shown, he's well aware of the limits of that knowledge. But turn him loose with a local engineer…._

_Oh, and if you think I update too fast, check out _**Arsinoe de Blassenville. **_She's a machine; she updates _**Victory at Ostagar **_every week on Sunday with 8000+ word chapters._

**Gavoon:** _I totally agree that religion is an integral aspect of our culture, but it's not necessarily that important to any given individual. What you've seen of Jeff's religious beliefs is pretty much it, and he doesn't swear by any gods because he just doesn't see a need for it. However, you have given me an idea or two to play with regarding Jeff's interactions with the Theodesian religions and followers._


	63. Broken Hearts and Full Packs

**2 Kingsway (day 76), morning**

Eyes scratchy, head thumping, mouth full of cotton, stomach alternating between asking for and rejecting any thought of food. At least, thanks to the mages, there's ice and therefore cold water handy, so I have a cold rag for my head and am slowly and carefully rehydrating. I hadn't been able to get much sleep, but I'm probably feeling better than Alistair. Probably way better than Alistair. Not that I blame Alistair for getting as drunk as he did; doing so is a time honored male tradition. Especially given the results of the courting ritual.

At least Selda says she's got a 'stone-solid' cure for what ails me.

A body just sat down beside me. I'll finish this later.

* * *

><p>Wynne's voice eased into my ears. "How are you feeling?"<p>

I let my face rest on the table. "Hungover. Duh."

That earned me a _tsk_. "You're not a young man; you shouldn't play the young man's game."

"Alistair needed somebody to hang out with last night."

"So the two of you-"

"Three. Leliana was with us." She's probably feeling better than me. Probably.

"So the three of you got drunk. As drunk as that dwarf got at dinner."

"I don't think anybody can get that drunk."

"But you tried."

"Alistair tried. I knew when to quit."

"I'm not so sure about that. Or do you find the table that fascinating?"

"I think it's oak."

Wynne chuckled quietly then placed a cool hand on the back of my neck and gave me a gentle shot of healing energy. The headache mostly faded and when I opened them I discovered the grit was gone from my eyes. "Feel better?"

"Mostly."

"Then why don't you raise your head?"

"The table _is_ that fascinating. I'm pretty sure it's oak. And I think I'm still a little drunk."

Another chuckle.

"Why did you heal me? Aren't you-"

"Oh, I don't think you need to suffer unnecessarily. Just enough to-"

"To teach me a lesson? Believe me, I already know this one."

Yet another chuckle.

"If you're gonna sit there and laugh at me…."

Wynne's hand was replaced with a cold, wet rag. I felt just good enough to twitch. "Is that better?"

"Meh."

"My lady. If you'll pardon me, my lord has a visitor."

"I'd rather have your hangover cure."

"My lord." Selda didn't even try to keep the amusement out of her voice. "May I present Erlind, smith of House Dam."

Huh? I raised my head and let my eyes try to focus. It was tricky; my glasses were in my room. "Erlind?"

The dwarf gave me a small bow but with only one arm on his chest. "How you doing, topsider?" he laughed. "You look like the back end of a bronto." He was holding a tube of some sort in his left hand.

I felt like the back end of a bronto, but was more interested in the tube. The hangover's priority dropped to near zero. "You should see the other guy."

Erlind laughed again as he walked up. It wasn't a tube he was carrying, but a long package wrapped tightly in a cloth secured with some leather straps.

_Psych!_ I managed to not say it out loud. For some reason I was thinking (hoping?) it was a prototype. Although that would've been hard to explain to Sten. The hangover moved back to its proper place.

Erlind laughed yet again as I squinted queasily at him. "Probably not brandy; that leaves a totally different mess."

"Antivan brandy."

"Topsider stuff? Try dwarven brandy next time; it's easier to deal with the next morning."

"I'll remember that."

"You do that. Now, I have something for you." He held out the package.

I took it and immediately had a good idea of what it was. I pushed some confusion into my face and looked at Erlind; he just nodded back to me. I put the package on the table, untied the thongs, and unwrapped the sheathed sword.

"What's this?" Wynne asked.

Manners! "I'm sorry. Wynne, this is Erlind. He's the smith I've been working with. Erlind, meet Wynne; she's a Circle Tower mage."

Erlind gave her a formal bow. "Mistress mage."

Wynne bowed back. "Ser smith." She turned back to the sword. "What's this all about?"

Erlind didn't miss a beat. "Your man here: well, he sold Bodahn – you know Bodahn, right? He sold Bodahn a gadget that Bodahn sold to me. And that's gonna make me and my house rich. And since you're headed for the Deep Roads I guessed this-"

Wynne and I interrupted at the same time. "How did you-"

"That's the only thing anybody's talking about right now. 'The Grey Wardens and their companions are gonna brave the Deep Roads in search of the lost Paragon.' That's a tale right out of the legends." Erlind laughed again, but humorlessly. "By the stone you've got some stones – you, too, mistress – er, no offense…."

"None taken." Wynne sounded amused.

"Glad to hear it! Well, when I got word of what you're planning I thought, well, if I'm gonna see what else he can do for me I need to help him get back. So…." Erlind nodded at the blade. "Go ahead, topsider; it's yours. A gift from House Dam."

I gave a pained laugh. "Nice to know you have my best interests at heart."

I held the scabbard in place and eased the sword free. It's a bit over a yard long with a red leather-wrapped hilt comfortably big enough for my gauntleted hand. The blade has a satin sheen to it and a very subtle curve that makes the center of the blade ever so slightly narrower than the ends. The pommel and the guard are colored bronze, but that's probably not because of how it was forged. The cross guard curves gently forward and is imprinted with dwarven writing. The pommel bears a resemblance to a closed fist and has more writing on it. I didn't get a translation.

But that wasn't all. I pulled the blade out of its scabbard with a quiet, "Whoooa," then held it point up. As I moved it I felt a quiet, almost calming tingle in my hand. "Did I-? Did it-?"

"Bodahn's boy folded a rune into the guard." Erlind shrugged. "Said it'd help you find your way." Another shrug. "Sky-addled the boy is, but you felt the rune."

"If I may?" At my nod Wynne reached out a hand and gently caressed the guard. She nodded. "Enchantment," she said quietly. "A strong one."

"And a strong blade as well."

I just stared dumbly and probably drunkenly at the weapon, but the hangover was mostly forgotten. "Erlind," I said while shaking my head, "I don't know how to thank you."

"Just use it well and come back safe. I'd like to do more business with you."

Ding. "Speaking of which, could I ask a favor – another favor – from you?"

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

"All right, you blighters: here's the rules."

"Rules?" Alistair asked numbly. He was (and maybe still is) still feeling last night.

"For crocket, or whatever that stupid game you topsiders play is."

"You mean-"

"For the rutting Deep Roads, pretty boy!" Oghren leaned forward in his chair. I could hear his eyes unfocusing but his voice was as clear as glass. "This isn't a little scholars' walking trip to the market; this is the Deep Roads. The. _Deep._ Roads. Got it?" He punctuated his point by draining his mug. "Hey, nug-rump-"

"Oghren!" Neria snapped. "She has a name!"

"Nug-rump!"

"Maker!"

"Here you are, mio amico robusto." I don't think Zevran really meant the 'amico' part but he passed a pitcher down the table.

Oghren accepted the pitcher with uncharacteristic grace. "Sorry, sweetie, but elves just don't do it for old Oghren. Not enough backside." He swigged straight from the pitcher then went back to the lecture. "Now, the rules-"

Alistair groaned. "I am not up for this."

I wasn't in the mood for it, either. "Let me guess," I interrupted. "No one goes anywhere alone, not even to piss. No one investigates any strange noises. And if someone hears a strange noise don't think they're hearing things but instead get ready to fight or run. No one gets left behind, even if they ask to be. No one sticks their head into anything without sticking a sword – or better yet, fire - into it first. Don't try to make friends with anything that can eat your face. Or looks like it might be considering eating your face. Or could potentially eat your face."

Snickers (damn I need chocolate!) ran around the table at that.

"That all?" Oghren's eyes peeked over the top of his pitcher at me.

"Nobody touches any weird glowing things. Nobody touches any non-weird glowing things. Or non-glowing weird things. Or pull or push any levers. Or buttons. Or poke at loose rocks. Or throw rocks down any holes. Or ring any bells."

By that time the whole table was staring at me as if I'd lost my mind, although I did see a couple of smiles. I was kinda in agreement with them, though, so I shut up.

"That's it?" Oghren snorted. "I was just gonna say make sure you kill whatever you're trying to kill and watch each others' backs. But those are good ideas, too." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Lot to remember, though; I like my list better. Hey! Nug-rump! Let's eat!"

* * *

><p>"Enchantment?"<p>

"If your father doesn't mind," I answered.

"Of course I don't," Bodahn answered. But I'd given him almost my entire stash of cash, so he was being pretty agreeable.

"Just start with Neria, okay?"

"Enchantment!"

* * *

><p><strong>Late evening<strong>

"Extra socks," I said.

"_Extra_ extra socks," Alistair responded crisply. His hangover was longer gone than mine, but he's got that Grey Warden metabolism working for him.

Beat and a nod. "Good idea."

"You can never have too many extra socks."

"Agreed. What about extra extra under- Smallclothes?"

Alistair grinned. "Right here."

I held open the Home Depot bag. "Stuff'em in."

Alistair folded our socks and underwear into a blanket, put that into a small canvas bag, and then put that package into the big orange bag. He'd been skeptical about taking it until I'd taken him and the bag into the bathroom and run water over it. Now he's an enthusiastic believer in it. Especially because he's an enthusiastic believer in clean, dry socks.

The bag wasn't even a quarter full. "Okay," I said, "let's go see if anybody else wants to stuff their stuff in here."

Alistair waved at the bed. "Don't you want some of your other clothes?"

My clothes from home were on the bed. I considered them for all of half a second then shook my head. "No point." I'm not expecting to get any down time for however long this trip is gonna take; but I am worried how long it's gonna take. It's a fairly ominous sign that we're taking what appears to be a month's worth of supplies with us. Jerky of various sorts, dried fruit, small dense cheeses, dried biscuits, and other similar delicacies. Basically the local equivalent of MREs. Probably eighty percent of our load is food, and it doesn't even need to be cooked, so we're just carrying some metal cups. Oghren says water shouldn't be a problem, so our canteens should cover us. And it's supposed to be warm and dry, so no cold weather gear, no tents; just a couple bedrolls and a few blankets. Just the basics then: socks, underwear, extra set of padding, and some useful odds and ends. Anyway…

"On second thought, hand me those black shorts." The local underwear chafes every so often, so better to be prepared. Baby powder's hard to come by here.

"What's this material called again?"

"Spandex."

"Amazing." Alistair's completely fascinated by the bike shorts, but I haven't been able to talk him into trying them on. But then if he did I'd have to show him off to Zevran and the ladies, and that would make Alistair's head pop off. And then it would roll under a bed and hang out with the dust bunnies and hiss every time one of us tried to get it out. Oy, that got away from me.

I shoved the bike shorts into the clothing and turned to the door.

"Er…."

I stopped with my hand on the latch. "What?"

"Would you…mind talking to the women? Well, I'll talk to Wynne."

"Wynne's not a woman?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Of course she is, but…"

I rolled my eyes right back at him. "Fine. But you're gonna need to talk to them again eventually. Both of them."

Alistair sighed. "Yeah, but maybe later when it's not so…embarrassing." I thought he was gonna say 'painful', although I can see why he said what he did. I'm not sure if it's too bad I promised not to write down the details. Hopefully you can read between the lines.

* * *

><p>Morrigan regarded me with cool, golden eyes. And that's all she did.<p>

"I'm not planning to play with them when you're not looking."

…

"Fine. Just don't ask to borrow my underwear if you need a clean set."

"You need not worry yourself on that account."

* * *

><p>"That is a marvelous idea! Give me but a moment." Leliana started unpacking. "How is Alistair feeling? He would not speak to me when I tried to speak to him."<p>

"You mean when you cornered him in the foyer?"

"I was trying to apologize; I did not mean to corner him." Slightly embarrassed shrug with a soft smile and laugh. "But I did release him before he turned too red."

"That was nice of you."

"He is still embarrassed, no?"

"Yes."

"Please tell him I am sorry."

I had to chuckle. "You know, the giggling just reeks of insincerity."

Leliana bit her lip. Hard, but she couldn't lose the smile. "Oh, but I am sincere. I would tease Alistair, but I certainly do not wish to hurt him." The smile evaporated. "I did not hurt him, did I?"

"No, you just embarrassed him."

She gave me a sly look. "And you? Were you not embarrassed?"

I stared off into the distance and tried to replay my memories. Me, Alistair, Leliana, and a bottle of brandy. Some talking, some joking, some flirting, some teasing, and some whining (mostly from Alistair). Leliana calling Alistair a handsome man, him denying it, then she suddenly kissed him. Don't know about his toes but mine curled. I gawked for a few seconds then blinked long and hard and slow and opened my eyes when I felt a body shove up against mine.

"Things were pretty fuzzy by then, but I think I was more surprised than anything else. And then you snuggled up next to me so I wasn't even really sure it happened."

"Oh, it happened, and by sweet Andraste I was embarrassed, too."

"So I'm a safe refuge?"

"You are, because-"

Facepalm time. "Oh, please; not with the 'trustworthy' again!"

The redhead laughed her response. "Oh, but you are!"

I held the facepalm. "You know, one of these days…." I just trailed off; I still don't know where I was going with that.

I think Leliana did because she stepped close to me and placed a gentle hand over my heart. "One of these days, as you say, you will no longer be trustworthy. And I will be sad when that day comes." She wasn't laughing.

The mood had swung and swung hard. I dropped the facepalm and squeezed her hand but had no clue what to say.

Leliana stepped close to me; so close that I could feel her breath when she whispered. "But until that day-" She leaned in and gave me a soft and friendly kiss on the corner of my mouth.

I just stood there like an idiot.

Leliana stepped away; the smile was back. "But until that day I shall enjoy teasing you." She spun lightly and returned to her pack. She bent gracefully over as she reached into it; her ass was on full display. She looked back at me with that enigmatic smile.

I groaned and stared. I am (I'm pretty sure) only human. And I'm definitely male. "That's not fair."

Leliana dropped the smile and the come-get-some pose. "You are right." She wrestled a bundle out of her pack and handed it to me. "I am sorry. I should not tease you so."

Another groan. "That's okay, but if you need me I'll be in my bunk."

* * *

><p><strong>3 Kingsway (day 77), very early morning<strong>

Woke up in the middle of the night to hit the head and ran into a couple of dwarves I didn't recognize running around. So I tracked down Selda and found out why: she's laying on some fresh food for us. Not a lot, but easily a couple or three days' worth, depending on how we eat.

We're definitely doing this. I know I need some more sleep but I'm wide awake, so, in the interest of covering my bases, I put some info down in the back of the journal: names, places, and events. Basically any knowledge that could be useful. And I wrote an apology as well. I've made the decision to keep my exact origins and nature a secret and I'm standing by it. But if for some reason I don't come out of the Deep Roads I'd rather my friends (and they are) hate me for keeping that secret than go blindly into their futures. Those pages are in a sealed envelope and tucked in between my (freshly laundered – thank you, Selda) clothes from home.

So with that I'm closing out this particular journal. _Volume 3_ will have no more entries. See you on the other side.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Another filler chapter here, but the Deep Roads await! And you won't have to wait long for the next update._

**D-Ro2593:** _You've given me a lot to answer, and I don't think I can do it without spoilers. So with that I'm going to just say thanks for the review, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!_

**omnigel & Oplindenfep:** _you're gonna have to wait for Jeff's specialization. It won't be long, though._

**Hoppette & phaseroller:** _thanks for the praise!_

**Pegueng, Cor'lii Eroverd, AD Lewis, bigstupidjellyfish1337, InsidiousAgent:** _glad you enjoyed Oghren's intro. And you're right: it did feel like a filler chapter. So did this one. Sorry._

**Phygmalion:** _Jeff got a nice little psych-out this chapter. He'd love to carry a firearm into the Deep Roads, but I doubt he'd want to be using a gunpowder weapon in front of Sten._

**Rioshi-sama:** _Thing's name was serendipitous, but Jeff ran with the theme when he met Cousin It. Lurch just seemed appropriate for the third bishgu._

_I have to agree that a big problem I've found with writing this story is that lack of a suitable overarching antagonist. So far Jeff's biggest opponent has been himself and his own doubts._

_Then again, DA:O doesn't really communicate much of a sense of urgency. Despite the threat of the Blight and the Archdemon the main threats are those faced during the main quest lines. If anything, the Archdemon feels much more like an abstract threat until the Battle of Denerim._

_Hmm…._

**Gillian Grayson:** _And I even added 'Leliana' to my spell checker! _

_I think the Warden's party is a pretty good cross-section of Ferelden religious attitudes. There's been some minor bickering about religion, but it's certainly possible that a major issue could rear its head._

**SnowHelm: **_Zevran, just like everybody else, has his own agenda regarding the situation, but that's something I've built up in my headcanon._


	64. D1

**3 Kingsway (day 77), throughout the day (such as it is)**

"Okay, you blighters! Gear up and move out!"

Neria was in full Warden mode. A good night's sleep and an epic breakfast had put the evil gleam into her – and everybody else's – eyes. I even managed to grab a couple more hours of sleep. I'm not thrilled about what we're doing, but like I told Neria, we need to do it. OTOH, outside of a special ops team, this group is probably the best around for this trip. We all – including me, I hoped – looked grimly determined. Not the look of the damned, but the look of those willing to do a very unpleasant job.

Well, except for Sten, but you could hit him with a brick and he wouldn't change his expression even when he's pureeing you in retaliation.

And Oghren. He just looks bored. And maybe drunk.

And Zevran looks curious.

Okay, let me back up.

"Lords. Ladies." Selda called. "Captain Thrand is ready with your escort."

"Gear up and move out!" Neria yelled.

We geared up and moved out. Armor, weapons, packs, and plenty of extra socks.

"That," Wynne scolded, "is not traditional at all."

Neria's wearing her tunic and trousers and carrying the curved spear. She actually grinned wickedly at the older mage. "Sandal enchanted it for me yesterday." She concentrated briefly and the blade – which now has a hole in which a gem's been set – glowed unsteadily. "I'm still getting used to it, so I apologize if I cut anybody's ear off."

Zevran looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a tilted head. I just shrugged back at him as best I could under my load.

"Let's go!" Neria shouted.

Selda pulled the entry door open. She bowed to Alistair and Neria. "My lady, my lord. May there only be stone beneath your feet."

Alistair returned the bow. "May all your paths be brightly lit."

Neria bowed as well. "Thank you, Selda. For everything."

Selda followed us out of the building, but that was only to retrieve the Warden banner. I didn't look back to see if she waved but I did hear the door close softly.

Into the streets. They may have heard we were headed into the Deep Roads, but nobody knew when we were leaving. But word got out quick. Our escort started getting nervous by the time we'd reached the Commons; there was a pretty good crowd lining the way. I was a bit nervous myself; if some leftovers from Jarvia's crew showed up we wouldn't know it until one of us was bleeding. But Thrand took care of that. We had a double ring of guards around us and they were being ferociously efficient with regards to our safety.

Not to say there weren't a couple of incidents.

Neria spoke with Thrand right as we left. She had a sealed envelope for him, but when they spoke Thrand refused it and sent a runner back towards the Assembly Hall. We made our way slowly (not that we had a choice) to the Diamond Quarter's exit ramp and were caught there by the same runner on the way back. So we cooled our heels for a few and waited for the Steward to catch us. Alistair and Neria spoke to him quietly, exchanged bows, and then rejoined us. We continued down the stairs.

I eased up to Alistair. "What was that all about?"

"We gave him a letter for the Grey Wardens in Orlais. If we don't come back then they'll send it on. We gave another one to Selda."

It's a good idea. "How long will they hold it?"

"At least a couple of months. But the weather through the passes – they probably won't be able to send it until spring."

How close are we to the end of the year? Oh, well. "We should be back by then."

"I should hope so. I'd hate to miss the Firstday celebrations."

Incident number two: "Warden! Warden!"

Neria and Alistair turned around at the shouting. We could hear it clearly over the buzz of the crowd as we moved through the commons. What we couldn't hear were our escorts' weapons rattling as they confronted the shouter.

"No, not you!" a dwarf called. "The warrior!"

"Me?" Alistair replied.

"No! Him! Joffrey!" The shouting dwarf pointed at me then raised his other hand. There was a small box in it. "Ser," he called, "your chess!"

"Captain," I called, "he's okay! Let him through!"

Thrand didn't take my word for it. "Wardens?"

Neria answered. "If Jeffrey says he's okay then he's okay."

Thrand looked confused at the word.

Neria huffed. "Let him through."

"Very well." Thrand gave his man a sharp nod.

The merchant trotted over to me. "Ser, glad I caught you before you left. I was afraid you'd forgotten about this, but if everything I've heard you've been up to is true then there's no wonder. But I thought about what you said and decided you should have it before-"

I held up a hand and the dwarf stopped speaking. "Thank you. I mean it. And for remembering." I held a hand out and instead of putting his hand in it the dwarf gave me the box. "Well, okay, but…." A quick switch and I held out my hand again.

"Ah! That's right; you topsiders like to shake on things. Odd custom, that is, but no odder than you topsiders. I remember once-" The dwarf suddenly stopped speaking. "Right!" He grabbed my hand and gave it a solid pump. "Follow the lit paths, ser. All of you."

Third incident: The gates to the Deep Roads are tall (for the dwarves) and solid, and ornately carved just like every other portal in the city. It looks like there used to be a couple of walk-through doors in them but they're sealed tight. The guards there snapped to as we approached, but they snickered when we got close.

"Hey, looks like-"

"Shut your sodding meat-holes, you humps!" Oghren didn't break step. He walked over to a weapon rack and disappeared behind it. There was a crash, some swearing (from both Oghren and some guards), and a moment later Oghren came back around armed like a serial killer. He had a couple of small axes strapped on his belt, knives in a bandolier, and was carrying an axe that looked like a giant double-edged razor blade on a stick.

"You remember how to use that thing?" a guard taunted.

"Doesn't matter how long it sits around; it knows its job. Heh. What are you looking at?"

That was directed at me. I shrugged. "A dwarf with an oversized battleaxe. Seems appropriate. And traditional."

Oghren snorted and grinned. "Rutting right it is." He spit on the blade and gave it a rub. "Dusty as the Ancestors. Eh. A few darkspawn'll take care of that."

"Oghren," Neria asked carefully, "just how long has it been since you've been in the Deep Roads?"

Oghren gave her a good-natured chuckle. "Too sodding long, missy. But don't you worry none…." He and Neria headed for the gates.

"I guess we're off," Alistair said, and followed the pair.

"I have not been looking forward to returning to the Deep Roads," Morrigan muttered from beside me. "And you. You have done everything possible to avoid them altogether. And yet you are still with us." Morrigan gave me her patented smirk. "Perhaps you are a fool after all." She moved out.

I mumbled something about courage and duty. I didn't understand it myself.

"Jeffrey?" Leliana appeared at my side. "You must move your feet."

"Yeah, I know."

"It is wise of you to be frightened."

I actually laughed at that. "Yep. Let's go."

Yeah, I was scared. Still am, even though it's been quiet up to now. But I wasn't gonna – and won't - let the team down. It's okay to be scared; it's not okay to give in to it.

Besides, I didn't spend all those years playing D&D without learning a little something about courage.

* * *

><p>The Deep Road leading out of Orzammar is 4-lane highway wide. The Orzammar gates are a lane-and-a-half wide. There's a thick, mortared stone wall on the Orzammar side that's used as a combination frame and guard platform. The guards have an excellent view of the Road via armored windows too small for anything much larger than a cat. As we walked away we could hear shouts of encouragement for the Wardens, some derision hurled at Oghren, and at least one fellow said he had money riding on us.<p>

"So rutting come back!"

There's huge piles of fire-blackened rubble on both sides of the gate, and the road itself looks charred. Carefully piled rubble. It even looks like it was cemented in place. It's designed to channel any attackers into a narrowly fronted kill zone directly under the gates. Simple, practical, and, judging from the bits of charred bone and other debris on the road's shoulder, effective.

Oghren was pointing out the sights to Neria. "They rebuilt the gates after the Aeducan pulled us out of the thaigs. Sodding blighters broke through the original gates at least twice, so we finally did this. Hasn't ever been breached. Now those bones over there…."

The road itself is smooth. (Well, once you get away from Orzammar, that is. Things are pretty torn up right outside the gate.) I know it's cliché, but it's been worn that way by generations of dwarven and darkspawn feet. Every so often, though, there's a crack, or a shallow pit, or even a chunk of the road that's been shattered somehow. Not a pothole; I can't see the dwarves allowing those, but instead something that looks like a backhoe was taken to it.

"Second thoughts already, mio amico?" We were making a reasonable amount of noise, but Zevran's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm wondering what did that." I was giving a hole in the road a worried look. There were loose chunks of rock the size of basketballs in it.

"I am wondering myself." Zevran looked worried.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"Si."

The air's warm and dry, but doesn't have the subliminal suggestion of life that topside or Orzammar's air does. There's nothing at all to it. No tang of a bustling city, no hints of meals being cooked, not even the distant funk of a few too many people in too-close quarters. Dust and emptiness and loss; that's what I smelled. Well, there was one other thing….

"You smell that, missy?"

Neria shook her head immediately. "Smell what?" She's too polite to tell Oghren he's overpowering anything else.

The dwarf chuckled. "Exactly. No darkspawn around. So quit looking like you're gonna run up the walls and hang off the ceiling." He laughed again. "Plenty of chances for that later on."

The thing I was (and am) worried the most about is lighting. When we left Orzammar the mages had to light up their staffs, but as we moved on we started seeing streetlights. Glowstones, they look like, set high up in the walls and on the ceilings, backed by tarnished metal plates, but still bright enough to dimly light the red and grey rock of the tunnels. We hit one straight section of road a ways back and we could see the stones marking a steady path into the darkness, just like street lights on an empty highway.

"Hey! You!"

"Me?"

Oghren took a hit off his flask and coughed wetly. "No, the sodding nug roast you're sitting on. No, I mean you. Not-a-Warden! What are you doing?"

"Uh, writing?"

"I can see that! I'm not a fresh whelp! Why? Why are you writing?"

Morrigan looked over at us from her blanket, but Oghren didn't notice.

"I'm trying to keep a journal for-"

Oghren squinted his eyes at me. "Are you some kind of rutting scholar? Never seen one in armor before."

I shook my head. "Just trying to keep a record of what's going on."

"So a shaper, then? That's all right. Honorable fellows, them. Helped me keep my caste. Never seen one of them in armor, though." He took another drink and laughed. "They're gonna be chaffed when they find out how many maps I stole from'em."

I thought about his words. "Yeah, maybe more like a shaper."

"All right, you sod. Just make sure the words about me are right."

"I'll do my best."

"You do that. Wanna drink?" He offered me the flask.

"No, thanks. I'm dry until we get back to Orzammar."

"Heh. That's what you say now. Ah, well. More for me." And with that Oghren went to find some supper.

"A shaper of memories?" Morrigan's voice was quiet and thoughtful. "Appropriate, I suppose. And how will you remember me?"

"As accurately as I can."

That amused her. "A fair answer. Now cease your scribblings and sleep."

Not a bad idea.

* * *

><p><strong>4 Kingsway (day 78), morning (I think)<strong>

"Do you intend to document our every step?" Sten's flat voice was surprisingly soft, even given all hard surfaces around us.

"I just had a lot to say and think about yesterday."

"I see. And how is your state of mind? You were uncharacteristically silent yesterday."

I tilted my head and tried for puppy-dog eyes. "Aw, Sten. I didn't know you cared."

The sarcasm was lost on him. "Your ability to concentrate is vital to our success. I am concerned for that ability."

"Okay, fair enough." I bit my lip and sighed gently and thought for just a moment. And then I gave Sten an honest answer. "We've been pretty busy the last couple days. Having something to do's kept me busy; I haven't had a chance to…really…dwell on things."

"And yet you are still not sleeping well."

"I'm not." I'm not having nightmares. Well, not really, but the dreams are cinematic. Epically so. Imagine having an IMAX film projected on the inside of the front of your skull. And you can't look away.

"And meditating does not help?"

"I…can't clear my head. The thoughts are…unpleasant." At least they're compartmentalized. The problem is I keep opening that box they're in. I'll never lose the key to that box, and I'm okay with that, but I'm having trouble staying out of the room the box is in. Sten nodded as I explained that to him and stood quietly as I continued. "The memories are just…too fresh. They're too raw. They're-"

Sten reached out and grabbed me; I hadn't realized I'd started pacing. "Your agitation is troubling. Are you certain you are-"

"Yeah, I'm certain."

"I am not as certain." He pointed back the way we'd come. "Orzammar is that way. You should be able to make the journey safely even if you are alone."

Yeah, that pissed me off as much as you'd expect. Although to be honest, there's a little chunk of me that says that'd be the smart thing to do. I told the smart corner of my brain to get bent and gave Sten a death stare. I opened my mouth but he spoke first.

"Your reaction is satisfactory. When given focus I am…reasonably certain you are…still…an asset to the group."

I snapped my mouth shut, then spit out, "Well played."

Sten considered the words then inclined his head to me. "Thank you. I suggest you attempt to sleep again."

I gave him a _hmph_, but, yeah, sleep's a good idea. Let me try again.

* * *

><p><strong>later<strong>

Aeducan Thaig sits directly on a side road that's only about two lanes wide. But as you make the approach the first thing you see is that the road's been collapsed.

"Yeah," Oghren said, "they had to do that to give'em time to pull back to Orzammar without the blighters chewing at their heels."

"But," Alistair pointed out, "there's a way around." He indicated a crude looking and very dark tunnel that disappeared into the walls.

"Yeah. Sodding blighters dig like dusters. That was here last I came through."

"This is where we encountered some darkspawn," Wynne said quietly. "Are there…?"

Neria was looking grim but uncertain. "I can feel the Taint, but…." She looked at Alistair.

Alistair looked a little uncomfortable at the attention, but he nodded. "It's weak," he said. "No darkspawn nearby."

Neria (and the other mages) lit their staffs. "Let's go."

Alistair gave her a nod and headed into the tunnel with Oghren right behind him and Morrigan lighting their way. Leliana and Wynne followed closely. There was a small gap to Neria and I. Cullen trotted alongside Sten, and Zevran brought up the rear. We'd agreed on this formation during the rules discussion, but not for the reason you might think. This is a smart group. We're not keeping the Wardens apart for personal reasons, but instead to make sure nothing takes them both out in one shot.

"That odor," Zevran said. "Is that-?"

Old locker room with a thoughtful yet understated accent of rotting meat and a delightful hint of unventilated mop closet. It wasn't too strong, but still not something I want up my nose.

"Yes," Sten answered. "Darkspawn taint."

Alistair called a halt. "It was right here. We had to fight some darkspawn. But the bodies are gone."

"Yep." Oghren chuckled. "Can't leave fresh meat laying around down here."

I broke my own rule and asked one of those questions. You know: the ones you don't really wanna know the answer to. "What would carry off darkspawn corpses?"

"I'll be bent if I know, shaper." Oghren laughed again. "But does it really matter?"

* * *

><p>"This would be an inefficient use of our time. And we have limited resources. We should continue to travel."<p>

"No." Neria's answer was sharp. "We're stopping here for the- You know what I mean. We'll rest and move out in the- We'll move out after everybody's had some sleep."

"Very well, Warden." Sten turned and followed the others into the building we'd chosen to shelter in.

Aeducan Thaig is a small town of carved and built stone buildings clustered around a central square with an ancient statue of the Aeducan Paragon. There's a few glowstones still about, but there's more light from the sullen glow of lava reflecting off the cavern ceiling. It's quiet, dim, eerie, and reasonably safe. I think Neria's decision is a good one, especially considering how jumpy some of us are right now. We've hunkered down in an ancient but sturdy house that doesn't have any windows. Our job right now is, like Neria told Sten, to get some rest and try to calm down a bit before moving on.

The main group's at the back of the house; my post is just inside the open main door. I'm sitting in the darkness but there's just enough light outside to make out rough details, and there's just enough light splashing out from the back for me to write. Don't worry; we made a light discipline check and we can't be seen except from directly in front of the building.

Neria came out a few minutes ago and brought me some food: bread, sausage, an apple. It'll be a decent cold meal, but she's warming up some water for tea.

The flame rolled gently out of her palm and kissed the bottom of the cup. "So," she said very quietly – certainly quietly enough to not be overhead in the other room, "you and Alistair…talked."

"You mean we got drunk."

A shadow danced across her face. "Oh, I know. I healed Leliana's day after. She, uh, apologized to me."

I shot an eyebrow up.

"For kissing Alistair. She said it's something sisters do. Or don't do. We were both a little confused. She said something about distracting my young man then fell asleep." The fire flickered then Neria continued. "I wasn't upset. Alistair's not my young man. I mean, I don't want a lover. But I like Alistair; he's very nice, and he's handsome, and I don't know what I would've done without him these last couple of months, but…." The flame vanished. "Here."

"Thanks." I took the not-quite-hot tea and took a questioning sip. Dwarven blend, not Ferelden.

"That's what I told Alistair. And I told him I want him to be a friend – I told him I need him to be a friend because I can't do this without him. And I think he understood because he just kind of smiled sadly and looked at me the way Cullen does when I won't give him cheese. Oh, uh, don't give him cheese; it makes him fart. Cullen, not Alistair."

Cullen groaned from under Neria's feet. In response she dropped a chunk of sausage that didn't hit the floor.

"But it's all right…." Neria trailed off and tilted her head. "Do you- No, you wouldn't. There's something out there," she whispered.

The food was forgotten. I gently cocked my crossbow; the _clicks_ seemed to echo around the room. "Darkspawn?"

"I…don't…think…so."

I eased off the ancient but sturdy stool I was on and made sure my sword was loose then peeked out the doorway. Nothing in sight.

"Neria!" Alistair hissed. "Do you-"

"Yes!"

"Shh!" There was a rustle from behind me as others moved into the room. I waved a free hand at them and shushed them again. I beckoned Neria closer to me and pantomimed, "Which way?"

I got a shrug from her in return, but Alistair tapped me and vaguely pointed off towards three o'clock. I gave him a nod, pointed at my eyes, and pointed that direction. Neria summoned some power as I leaned out the door.

There was _something_ snuffling around in the shadows. Fifty, sixty yards away, but with the low light it was hard to tell. It was fairly large dark shape sitting low to the ground; I got the impression of a _way_ too big rat. No tail that I could see, though.

I pointed at the crossbow then at the something (I won't dignify it by called it a Thing) and made a gesture that meant 'Should I shoot it?'

Everybody else looked at everybody else. The general consensus was 'Sure, why not?'

Alistair eased his sword out. I took aim and squeezed the trigger. I'd misjudged the distance; my shot missed short, I think. There was a _clack_ then some rattling as the bolt hit the rock and skipped away. Whatever the target was scuttled away into the darkness.

"It's gone," Alistair said a moment later.

"Darkspawn?" Wynne asked.

"No. At least, I don't think so. Whatever it was is tainted, but weakly."

"There's a lotta strange things down here," Oghren muttered. "Yell if you need any of 'em killed." He headed back to the other room.

The tension melted from the room and the others headed to the back.

Alistair stayed behind for a moment. "Are you two well?" I couldn't read his face in the shadows.

I nodded. "I'm good."

"Me, too," Neria added.

"Call if you need anything."

"We will. Get some sleep."

I'd lost my appetite so I went back to watching the town square and listening for anything unusual. Neria did the same. It took a while, but the worry very slowly faded away and I felt myself losing focus.

"Do you mind if I write?"

"Go ahead."

For a short time the only thing we could hear was the scratching of my pen and some quiet talk from the back room. I switched my attention back and forth from the journal to the surroundings. Nothing else happened until…

"I've got something for you."

Neria's sudden statement brought back the nervousness and the pen jumped from my hand and rolled away. It dropped off the table and Cullen scrabbled away when it landed on his back.

"You're all right." Neria thumped him softly and retrieved the pen. She handed it back to me. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I'm a little jumpier than I thought."

"I, uh, wanted to give this to you." She pulled a pendant out from her tunic.

I took it by the chain and immediately recognized it: my dog tag chain with the yin-yang tag.

Neria sounded embarrassed when she spoke. "It's…not…the…one you gave me."

"What?" I took a closer look at the tag but it was too dark see it clearly.

Neria held something else out. Small, metal, shaped like a dog tag. "I don't know when it happened, but…. I'm so sorry, but I got you a new one."

I took the tag as Neria cast a small flame. In the firelight I could a see deep scratch across the metal and the white stone was gone. (I hope that's not an omen.) I held up the other tag; it's a little larger than the original and made with a different metal. The new yin-yang's made with what looks like black and white stone; it's hard to tell under the light down here. But it's handmade, and, like the chess set, the work is exquisite.

OTOH, the broken symbol is yet another reminder of what lies behind me: family, home, modern conveniences, maybe my sanity. But I've set that last aside for now and I'm just concentrating on preserving myself. If I'm really insane it sure doesn't feel like it, but I guess by this point I wouldn't be able to tell anyway. So when I saw the yin-yang I let out a huge sigh of disappointment and anger and frustration and homesickness. And you know that bad omen thing? The symbol's a gift from my wife intended to bring me good luck. Here's hoping the mojo's still on it.

OTGH, when I let out that sigh Neria reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. She's 'really, really, really sorry' about it getting broken. I can't blame her for that; it's not like she's been carrying it under plate armor for this last month. And she had the courage to tell me right out about breaking the original, and she made the effort to get me a replacement. As far as I'm concerned she did the right thing, and that always counts for a lot.

"I not mad," I told her, even though I was. A little. "I'm…well, I'm not sure what I am, but thanks for the new one." I clipped the old tag on to the chain before slipping it on. I'll dig my dog tags out in a few and put those back on, too.

Neria gave my hand another squeeze. "You're welcome." Then she pulled back to herself and we watched the empty thaig in silence.

* * *

><p><em>AN: if you're able to figure what the title of this chapter means you're either really old-school or the Google-fu is strong with you._

_Did anybody catch the_ **X-Files** _reference?_

_Oh, and all you blighters better get to writing. Mass Effect just passed Dragon Age in total number of fics on the site._

_I'm leaving for my class in one week. I'd hoped to have Jeff reach the Anvil by then but despite having a good draft I don't think I'll be able to make it. _

_I want to give a shout-out some new followers and favers: _**Dur'id the Druid, Nightblade1021, PhoenixFTW, The Joker Lover, ArcherReborn2, Cor'lii Eroverd, TheSecondOtherGuy, Princess Procrastinata, & Megatoast, **_among many others. I offer my sincere thanks to everybody out there who's reading and keeping me motivated._

**Charlie019:** _I'm content with the ME3 endings as they now stand, but I'm ticked that it took the outcry it did for that to happen. Hopefully the lesson will be learned for DA3._

**Dur'id the Druid: **_thanks; I'm glad you're enjoying the story! I've always found that expanding on the occasional small (and possibly insignificant) detail can make things feel more realistic._

**Rhivanna:** _I think Jeff was thinking about_ **The Tomb of Horrors**.

**Rioshi-sama: **MINOR SPOILER:_ good thoughts you have there, especially concerning Sandal. I've got my own [REDACTED / CLASSIFIED ULTRAVIOLET] ideas about Sandal that may be incorporated later. Thing's nature is locked in but won't be revealed for quite a while. Jeff's nature is also locked in but he's still figuring it out._

MORE MINOR SPOILERS:_ The Archdemon will still make its cameo. However, in game that brief appearance doesn't contribute much to that sense of urgency, although it did give me an 'oh shit' moment when I saw it. But I think if you were to go to Orzammar last that scene have more of an impact. As in, 'Oh crap, the darkspawn army's on the move!'_

POSSIBLE SPOILERS:_ Jeff was definitely in over his head early in the fic, but has since learned to tread water and is starting to swim. However, I'm taking pains to ensure he doesn't end up in Gary Stu territory, but, again, the problem becomes 'Where's the bigger conflict?' The trouble with having a powerful antagonist is that the protagonist needs some comparable level of power to be able to fight effectively. I want to avoid the 'Incredible Cosmic Power!' trap while keeping the stakes high. We'll see if I can pull it off._

**xUnDeadKittenx:** _funny you posting that review the day after Ash Wednesday._

**SnowHelm:** _you aren't the only one I know who's drooling over the thought of Alistair in a pair of bike shorts…._

**InsidiousAgent & AD Lewis:** MINOR SPOILER: _Jeff's resolve is slowly weakening._

**Shinkansen: **_I'm not a Loghain apologist, but from a purely military perspective it's always been my opinion that pulling his army out of the fight at Ostagar was the only sensible tactical and strategic option he had._ PROBABLE SPOILER: _But there's no excusing his actions after that._

_I'm enjoying _**VaO**_ for the different take on the story, although I hadn't really noticed the female-heavy Warden population until you pointed it out. But then the author may be more comfortable writing female characters. _

_I appreciate the thoughts on the characters, but need to ask: do you feel I'm mischaracterizing Leliana, or am I keeping her in character and you're just taking issues with her actions? (Feel free to respond via PM or review.)_

**Matalvis:** _that would be hot. Could you imagine Leliana in jogging shorts and a tank top?_

**Oplindenfep: **_you're gonna have to wait and see what happens with the Anvil._

**Pegueng: **_hope you and everyone else is enjoying my interpretation of Oghren. He's a lot of fun to write, but like the others I need to be careful to not turn him into a caricature of himself._

**D-Ro2593: **_believe it or not you can gain rep with Alistair if you turn him down gently. Neria's too nice to tell him to just piss off, but the rejection still hurts. Not as much as a bottle of brandy…._

_Leliana's always seemed like the teasing/flirting type to me, but she makes sure her targets are safe ones and/or ones she likes. Compare her in-game interactions between Sten, Morrigan, and Zevran, for example._

_The Neria/Solona thing was a canon mistake on my part when I introduced her, but I came up with a back story to resolve the problem. I'm trying to figure out where to plug it in or if I even can._

_Jeff's making his best guess WRT spelling unfamiliar words. (Although he should have asked Sten for help with the Qunari words by now.) Just wait for him to run into the elves._

_DEFINITE SPOILER: Sten's reaction to gunpowder weapons has already been drafted._


	65. Down to the Crossroads

**5 Kingsway (day 79), morning (I think [probably])**

All right; I'm officially kicking myself. Why the hell didn't I bring my watch?

* * *

><p>"I do not understand," Sten complained. "We are in the Deep Roads, and yet we have not encountered any darkspawn. Why are we not actively seeking them out?"<p>

"Ah, mio amico grande, a day - such as it is here – a day without darkspawn is like a day without pestilence. It's like a day without being tortured. It's like-"

"Silence, elf."

"-a day without poison in your wine."

Wynne spoke up. "It's like a day without being slain by a Templar."

"Silence, mage."

"It is like a day without Mother…."

_Rumble._

* * *

><p>I may not have my watch but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes later. We were on wide stretch of road heading for Cariden's Cross with Alistair and me on point. We weren't talking about anything, just walking quietly and listening to Zevran trying to convince Oghren that he's male. That Zevran's male, that is. Either Oghren wasn't buying it or he's really good at jerking Zevran around, because…<p>

"Fine, this evening – should we know when the evening comes - I shall prove to you my mascolinita beyond all doubt."

Oghren choked. "Hey, missy! Did you hear what she said to me? You gonna let her keep-"

Alistair jerked to a stop and raised a hand. "Darkspawn!"

"Finally," Sten muttered.

"Damn it, Sten, I told you you were gonna jinx us." I (and everybody else) dropped our packs. Shields came up, helmets came down, weapons were in hand, and we tightened up the formation.

"Where?" Oghren asked. "I can't smell'em."

Alistair was pointing ahead of us and towards the wall. "That way. Neria?"

"Behind the wall. Right there! They have to-"

A loose slab of stone concealed by the shadows fell into the passage with a _boom._ The dust didn't have a chance to clear before we were bracing for the impact of a small horde of darkspawn rushing out of the opening.

I touched my right elbow to Alistair's shield. Sten's sword started humming. An arrow hissed downrange and made something squeal. I heard a clunk of metal on metal from behind me and Oghren's muffled voice.

"I can smell'em now!"

Spells snapped off, Cullen growled, and a hand axe spun past my head.

"One…two…three!" Alistair counted, and we came off our mark. Our short rush broke the darkspawn wave. It piled up on and spilled around us and into the dwarf and the giant.

I'd slammed my shield into a hurlock. It staggered to a stop but its compatriots ran into it and shoved it into me. I punched it with my sword hand and felt a warm tingle come down my arm as I felt a satisfying crunch. I was in too tight to make a thrust so I took an overhand swing and caught the thing high on the shoulder. The warm tingle returned as the blade bit deep and the hurlock screamed.

Alistair yelled something but I ignored it and cut (not chopped!) at another target. Oghren laughed and yelled, Sten grunted, and I heard a curse from Zevran and, somehow, a quiet prayer from Leliana. Something hot hit my leg; I thrust at a genlock and got a clean hit and the blade's approval, then used my shield to knock another to the ground; I kicked it then left it for Cullen. I checked my front; it was clear, so I turned to help Sten. I stabbed another hurlock in the back (and got that warm tingle again) and…

"Are we clear?" I called.

"Yes," Alistair said, "we're clear."

"Good. Cause I need some help here." The heat in my leg turned into fire. Somehow I'd taken a hit that snuck in between the armor gaps and it hurt like hell.

"I've got him," Wynne said. She looked a little ruffled but otherwise fine.

Zevran looked up from where Neria was tending him. "How many were there?"

"A lot," Neria answered. "Now hold still!"

I heard Zevran hiss then swear again.

Leliana was nocking another arrow. "Morrigan, could you accompany me while I recover arrows?"

The witch gave her a short nod and the pair moved out.

Wynne and I had got the armor lifted away from my leg, but before she could work on me Oghren pushed her hand away.

"Here," he said. "Rinse it with this first." Before I could protest he tipped his flask over and dumped molten glass into my wound.

When I could see again Oghren was standing a safe distance away with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Can't have any darkspawn drippings getting in there, can we?" He took a drink from the flask.

"Hold still," Wynne scolded gently.

I answered between clenched teeth. "Just long enough for you to work on it. Then I am going to kill Oghren."

That just got a laugh out of him.

About a minute later the pain had ebbed, and adrenaline decided to call it quits, and I took stock of the surroundings. Our tactics had worked pretty well; the planning we'd done before leaving Orzammar was worth the effort. Lots of darkspawn were down, most to magic, but more than a few to our weapons. Their blood was slowly draining to the center of the road to slowly collect in a pool of foulness. And I suddenly noticed the stench: rotten meat overlayed with fermented swamp water.

My stomach backflipped. I took a quick step away from the others, bent over, and puked. "Sorry, but it's been a while."

Oghren just snorted but he offered me his flask. From a safe distance. "Rinse and spit?"

"Oh, Maker, Jeff!" Alistair looked a little put out. "If I'd known you'd do that I wouldn't have traded you my last apple."

* * *

><p>"Careful there, grandma, or you'll be giving the shaper a lot more care than you expected."<p>

Wynne's careful hands twitched away from my inner thigh. "I am merely examining the wound Jeff received earlier."

"Is that what they're calling it nowadays? Heh. Then you won't mind if I watch."

Wynne set her mouth and gave Oghren that stare of hers. I tried to throw in one of my own but the contribution was insignificant.

Oghren actually squirmed a little bit under the gaze. He grumbled into his beard and wobbled off to pester Alistair. "Hey, pretty boy…!"

Wynne turned back to me. "Do you think bringing him was a good idea?"

I gave her a shrug. "You saw him in the fight today. He's a psychotic – uh, crazy little bastard when he starts swinging that axe."

Wynne bobbed her head reluctantly. "He was…impressive. Loud, too."

Her hands went back on to my leg. It was feeling fine after the fight, and Wynne patched me up fine, but the day's travel has it stiff and sore. I'll end up with a nice scar, but it's definitely better than the alternative.

Wynne suddenly dug a thumb into the muscle. My leg spasmed and I jerked away from the pain, but forced myself to relax as she continued to work.

"Your sword," she suddenly said, "did you figure out what the enchantment does?"

I answered between winces. "I just felt kind of a warm, gentle shock while I was using it. Seemed like it was trying to…keep me…calm, almost." I grunted as Wynne hit a sensitive spot. (No, not that one.)

Wynne grunted herself with her effort. "You…have…got…a…horrible...cramp in here." She started to give me the _look _but stopped when she remembered I'm immune. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"It didn't hit until we stopped."

We'd found a rest area to hunker down in for the night. Well, for a while. There's a few rooms carved out of the stone along with some stone benches and tables. Nothing fancy; it's a just a place to rest, but when we walked in we could smell water. The place is built around a spring. Water trickles out from a crack near the ceiling, collects in a basin, and drains into the rock. The basin and drain are tainted, but Alistair and Neria both agreed that the water from the rock is clean, but Neria threw a little fire at the rock just to make sure. We also had to clear out a definitely-not-fresh darkspawn corpse and barricade the entrance, but that's a minor detail.

Wynne suddenly bore down and concentrated. I grunted again then immediately sighed.

"Was that it?" Wynne let the healing energy go. "I think you tore a muscle during the walk. No guard duty for you tonight; just rest." She leaned back and flexed her hands. "Calming. There is magic for that, but it's…usually more traditional – and useful - to enchant a weapon with fire or lightning, or even something to keep the metal sharp. Would you mind if I examined it more closely? Don't worry; I'll keep it close by."

"No, go ahead," was my answer, but thinking back I'm wondering if it was the right one. Since returning to the Tower Wynne's been slowly warming back up, but every so often I catch her watching me like I'm a lab rat. She's met Sandal, but only briefly, so I don't think she's had a chance to get a real look at his abilities, and I wonder if she'd try to study him the way she wants (wanted?) to study me. But it's too late now, and maybe she can give me some insight.

* * *

><p><strong>6 Kingsway (day 80), morning (more or less)<strong>

"Good morning, if there is one here."

[welcoming hiss]

"Get your shit together…if you've got any to get. We're taking a walk."

A moment later and I had the M16 and the two of us were headed down the road that leads to the Fade proper. The path made its usual transition into the expected terrain; in this case the smooth stone of the Deep Roads. But about the time that happened Thing and I found ourselves in a Deep Road. Not a real Deep Road, but a version that was much more brightly lit, better smelling, and safer feeling. I can't recall a transition, we were just suddenly in the tunnels at one point.

[hiss]

"Why not?"

We turned around and followed the Road for a time but weren't able to get back to the bubble. Not that I was really surprised about that, but it did leave me a little worried. Just a little; I had a dream assault rifle and a relatively friendly lizard-bug Thing with me.

[questioning hiss]

Sigh. "Back that way I guess."

The dream quickly turned into an exercise in frustration. I eventually picked up on the nav points that meant there were a couple mages nearby, but's also the time the damn Deep Roads became more confusing than they are IRL. They're a frakking maze is what they are. I even went so far as to leave marks on the walls and stacked some rocks, but a quick experiment showed that they disappeared on me even if I backtracked after a few minutes.

"Sonofabitch!"

[hiss]

"And how the hell are you gonna get outta here after I'm gone?"

[resigned hiss]

"That doesn't do me any good!"

[calm, but cautioning hiss], followed by a talon pointing.

A quick burst of gunfire dispersed a rage demon. We started moving again at a fast walk.

[calming hiss]

"Yeah, I know."

I've figured out that the rage demons are attracted to anger. Keep it under control and they can't find it. Let it out and it's like turning on a porch light. Desire demons, OTOH, are a bit more perceptive. At least the one I've been dealing with is.

"It's been a long time. Have you been avoiding me?"

Thing and I had made yet another probably wrong turn and found D-Amy just standing in a random passage. Thing hissed but I didn't even bother raising the rifle. I just wanted the night to be over with so I could get back to something more productive.

"As a matter of fact: I have. I've been busy."

"Not so busy that you couldn't visit?"

I waved an irritated hand at her. "What do you want?"

"It's not what I want; it's what you want." She moved to the side of the passage and pointed. "Go that way. Make the first right, then take the right-hand path at the grand crossroad. That course will bring you to your friends." She smiled at me. "Another gift. Even though you so rudely rejected the others."

[hiss]

"Introduce this friend to your other friends. Until next time." D-Amy kept the smile and nodded politely to both me and Thing. Then she turned gracefully and walked into the distance.

When she was out of sight I turned to Thing. "What do you think?"

[confused hiss]

"Might as well."

We headed out again. The first right turned out to be a side tunnel that dropped us into a wide road. The road was blocked to the right so we turned left and followed it to the grand crossroad. Huge roads, interstate wide, intersected in a cavern. The road I was on was a good thirty feet above the floor. Another road crossed above us at almost right angles; it was built atop a Roman-style viaduct. Another bridged road crossed below us, and a fourth road ran through the cavern at ground level. Ramps and stairs connected all the levels.

[impressed hiss]

"Yeah, but I've never seen anything like- Actually, I have. I don't suppose you know what an interstate is? When they meet this is what they look like." Another quick look around revealed an exit ramp heading down and to the right. "That way."

The place could have used some road signs but my best guess turned out to be right. Thing and I put the interchange behind us and headed back into a tunnel. Another short and timeless walk later I saw a figure approaching with careful, measured steps.

"Morrigan?"

She stopped walking and considered me from a distance. "'Tis I." She stared curiously at Thing. "And that is your outsider acquaintance, is it not?"

"Uh, yeah." I supposed introductions were in order. "Morrigan, meet Thing. Thing, Morrigan." Yeah, it was surreal.

[greeting hiss]

Morrigan actually inclined her head. "Well met, outsider."

[hiss]

That was unexpected. "Do you understand him?"

Morrigan leaned on her staff. "I do not, but Mother spoke of beings such as this. Those that exist outside the realm of the demons." She nodded towards Thing. "Or perhaps I should say the demons that we know."

I gave Thing a second look. "You're a demon? Why didn't you tell me? All this time I thought you were just a figment of my imagination."

[sarcastic hiss]

"So let us speak of this…friend of yours while we may do so without interruption."

"All right. What do you wanna know…?"

* * *

><p><strong>later<strong>

I have a bad feeling about this.

Oghren's looking at one of the maps, muttering to himself every now and then, and then switching to a different map. Alistair's looking uncharacteristically jumpy, and Neria's looking pissed off.

I was right. We're looking at about three miles of backtracking. Grr.

* * *

><p><strong>7 Kingsway (day 81) (or is it?)<strong>

I handed Alistair a cup of oatmeal and eased down beside him. "How you feeling?"

We'd run into some more darkspawn yesterday after the backtrack. Nowhere near as many as the first group, and I managed to keep my stomach under control this time. But after the fight Alistair slipped on some gore and rang his bell and we ended up stopping for the night. Well, for a while. I'm really ticked about leaving the watch behind; at least I'd have a general idea of how long we've been traveling down here and how long we're stopping. Anyway…

"Thanks. I'm fine. Actually slept pretty good. Not even a bad dream. How's Neria?"

"She could use some more sleep but I think she's okay." She wasn't hurt in the fight, but she'd decided to stay awake and help guard against another attack.

Alistair mumbled an answer around a bite of his food. "Good to hear." He swallowed, glanced over at Morrigan, and then leaned into me and whispered, "I feel like a complete idiot."

I gave him a head shake and a friendly smile. "Don't worry about it. You're okay and that's what counts. At least we didn't have to pry your helmet off, too."

"At least it was only Sten's pride getting hurt." Alistair laughed quietly. "You wouldn't think a genlock could reach that high." He dug into his oatmeal.

I dug into my own and we ate in silence. At least until Neria came over.

"Good morning."

I frowned at that. "If it is morning."

Neria smiled at me then knelt down in front of Alistair. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he mumbled. I'm pretty sure he wasn't making eye contact with her. "That's not necessary."

She'd reached a hand out towards his head. "I just want to make sure-"

"I said I'm fine."

"Alistair. Quit being a butthead and let her check you out." I'd said the words gently but the Wardens looked at me like I'd punched him.

Neria recovered first. "Jeffrey, could you give us a moment?"

"Right." I levered myself up and gave the two as much privacy as they were going to get in a poorly-lit tunnel with a half-dozen other people around. Neria had Alistair's hand in hers and was talking quietly with him. Her body language suggested sympathy, but I couldn't be sure.

"Mio amico, how is our scorned friend?" Zevran was nibbling on some dried fruit.

"I think 'scorned' is too strong a word, don't you?"

"Perhaps. But to see his face when our capo bella is in his sight…. It is a difficult thing for a romantic such as I."

"You? Romantic?"

"More so than you know, mio amico."

* * *

><p>"That's gotta be Caridin's Cross," Oghren said. "Crossroads of the old empire. Last place we know for sure Branka came through. Hmmph. Probably rutting full of darkspawn and corpses now."<p>

We were concealing ourselves as best we could in some shadows a pretty good distance out from a brightly lit section of road that's maybe a hundred yards long and interstate wide. We'd seen the light from at least a mile back and still had a couple hundred yards to go before we reached it.

I vaguely recalled ballistas. "That looks suspiciously like a kill zone to me."

"I don't see anything," Alistair said. "And we're definitely too far away to sense any darkspawn."

"You wouldn't see anything. Too much glare from the lights, and if they're hiding in the shadows on the other side…."

Oghren grumbled. "If there are blighters there then this is pretty clever of them. You sure about this, shaper?"

"Sure enough that I don't wanna bet my life on it."

"Pretty boy?"

Alistair needed a moment but eventually nodded. "I agree with Jeff."

"What about you, Chantry girl?"

"I do as well," Leliana answered.

"Hmmph."

We eased our way to the main group and retreated back up the passage, explaining the situation as we walked.

Two minutes later Neria set her jaw. "Maker, Jeff! Are you sure about this?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Oghren! Is there a way around?"

Oghren lowered his flask. "Gimme a bit, missy," and he dug out his maps.

Mage and dwarf bent over the parchments and began tracing lines with careful fingers and subdued voices. Neria suddenly swore and that set Oghren to laughing, but he shut up at the glare she gave him.

"Are you sure?"

Oghren nodded at me. "Less sure than he is of getting killed if we go straight in. Still a better choice than getting dead."

Neria bit down on her lip and actually drew a little blood. "Motherfucker!"

"Mother-what?"

Neria ran a finger over her lip and frowned at the red streak on it. Then she summoned a tiny ball of energy into that fingertip and drew it across her tight mouth. The blood smeared but the bite mark disappeared. "Get your shit. We're going back that way."

* * *

><p>I had a rooster try to spur me once. I just stood there and watched it hop up and down and kick its feet at me until my brother-in-law stopped laughing and told me to "just kick the damn bird." So I waited for the rooster to hop again, timed my shot, and caught it just as it landed. It was like kicking a heavy soccer ball; I sent the damn bird rolling across the yard.<p>

"I didn't mean like that!" my brother-in-law yelled.

"I thought you knew I played soccer!"

The point of this? Sten's right that it's more efficient to just kick deepstalkers to death that to try to chop them up. At least the damn bird left me alone after I kicked it; these things just keep coming back. Or they spit acid at your legs and then come back. Tactics were simple: kick one of the little monsters and let Leliana plink it, one of the mages zap it, somebody else throw something heavy and/or sharp at it, or even take a chance and try to stab it yourself. It was the execution that was a bit tricky.

Leliana's right: they are horrid little beasts.

Oghren's happy, though. He had a knife out and was butchering the things. "You get the small ones like this and they're actually pretty good eating." He held up a carcass; it bore more than a passing resemblance to a small chicken. Raw, of course.

Somebody gagged; I was wondering if the mages had any herbs that would make it taste good.

Morrigan shrugged. She'd been leaning over Oghren and watching him with guarded curiosity. "'Twould probably make a better meal than much of what Mother made."

"That's the spirit! Speaking of which…." Oghren laid out of the larger deepstalker corpses - about the size of a swan – and gutted it.

More gagging, this time definitely from Neria. And Sten was looking a bit more stoic than usual.

"Oh, come on, missy." Oghren's hand _squelched_ into the carcass. "Ah! There we go!" His knife went in, jerked, and the hand came back out holding a blob of tissue. "One deepstalker geezer."

I suddenly felt a little queased out myself. I was afraid the dwarf was gonna say that's good eating, too.

But he dropped the organ on the stone with a _splorch _and attacked it with his knife. "These sodding things are full of rocks and sometimes…. Yep!" He held up a small slimy rock a little bigger than a pea. "Here you go, naked lady!"

Morrigan leaned aside slightly and calmly watched the pebble arc past her. It _clicked_ across the cave floor. "And why would I be interested in that?"

Oghren continued sorting out the gizzard stones as he answered. "That's a hunk of lyrium, refined the natural way. Crush it fine, mix it with some salty water, and you'll get one of those lyrium draughts you mages are so rutting fond of." He nodded towards Alistair. "Templars, too."

Morrigan's eyebrow went up. "Truly?"

"Would I yank you?"

"Yes, you would, but…." Morrigan turned to fetch the rock.

Oghren chuckled then held up another small stone. "You want this one, pretty boy?"

Even in the dim light Alistair looked a little pale. "I think I'll pass."

LINE BREAK

"It's a long shot," I whispered, "but not impossible."

"And for me," Leliana whispered back.

"'Tis beyond my ability," Morrigan whispered from behind us, "but I will be prepared for those who draw near."

"Okay," I whispered, "let's do this."

Sten rumbled gently. "I am ready."

I took a deep, slow, calming breath and felt my heart slow down. My crossbow was resting on a ledge of rock; I was kneeling behind it. Leliana was right behind me with an arrow nocked.

We were concealed in the shadow of a side passage that looked out over a darkspawn outpost. They don't seem to do much when they're not fighting; this bunch was more or less just sitting around hissing and gesturing at each other, although there were a few eating. I don't know and definitely don't care what it was. There was a good mix of hurlocks and genlocks and what appeared to be a couple of their mages. Maybe twenty-five or thirty total, but quite a few archers, the mages, and a couple of ballistas pointing at the well-lit kill zone off to our right.

The long backtrack and circle around and a lot of patience had paid off. Now we just had to capitalize on it.

Another breath followed by a slow exhale. I didn't inhale but instead finished sighting and moved only the muscles needed to curl my finger. The crossbow _snapped_; it sounded to me like a gunshot but I didn't see the darkspawn react. I also didn't see the quarrel flying, but my target – a genlock mage about sixty yards away – suddenly spun around and screamed.

Leliana's bow gently creaked and a couple arrows hissed away while I reloaded; I didn't see hits but heard more screams. I aimed at a hurlock holding a torch to whatever was loaded on a ballista and got a clean hit.

The there was a sudden _whump_ followed by a _woosh_ and a flaming ball of death went hurtling down the path we'd declined taking I don't know how many hours before. We all froze and watched it fly. It hit and exploded into a greasy patch of fire.

I took the time to say, "What the fuck?" and went back to reloading, then a couple more seconds to gawk as another fireball - but larger and slower - followed the first and exploded just as spectacularly. Then I looked for a target and said, "Oh, shit!"

The ballista I could see was being turned clockwise. We'd either been spotted or they figured out where we were. I aimed for the mass of darkspawn pushing the engine, shot, hit something, and ordered the retreat.

"Move your asses!"

Leliana took another shot and, knowing how she shoots, probably hit something. She scrambled along with the rest of us away from the opening. It wasn't a just-in-time thing; we were well clear when the fireball shot across the opening and exploded somewhere out of sight.

We readied our bows and only had to wait for a minute. A darkspawn appeared in the opening and was nicely silhouetted against the brighter passage. Leliana picked it off; I dropped its backup, and Leliana took down the third darkspawn that appeared. No more showed up but arrows started flying in. The angle was bad but some of the arrows were hitting the ceiling and ricocheting down into us.

"Back to the others!"

Another planned retreat, but this one wasn't as easy. The ballista crew corrected their aim and let loose with another fireball. It exploded in the passage's opening; bits of burning and sticky stuff flew everywhere. Something glowing red-hot brushed my ear and I heard a yelp from Morrigan. A second fireball came in right behind that one and exploded even closer to us. I'd pushed Leliana aside and crouched with my back to it but she grunted with pain and I still got a nasty burn on my lower leg.

That was the darkspawns' cue. They rushed the opening and swarmed into the passage. The leaders were blown back by Morrigan's runes but the rest kept coming. I shoved Leliana down the tunnel and around a corner and hoped I was moving faster than the pursuers

"Your shield!"

Zevran held up my scratched, gouged, dented, and chipped hunk of trusty wood and metal. I shoved my arm into the straps and yanked them tight, handed off my crossbow, and drew my sword as I turned back around.

The warm tingle ran up my arm and the fear I'd been feeling just drifted away. The touch of panic morphed into focus and things slowed down just a hair. The pain in my leg went from agonizing to tolerably bad. I shot some silent thanks to Sandal and almost casually stabbed a darkspawn that came around the corner.

"Keep backing up!"

I smelled ozone as another rune burst and someone's hand on my back guided me backwards through the tunnel. We just needed a few more seconds to get back to the others but the darkspawn suddenly screamed as one and surged forward.

"Take them!" Sten snapped.

We stopped the retreat and surged forward ourselves. I bounced a hurlock off my shield towards Sten then smashed in the head of a suddenly frozen genlock. I don't remember it happening but some archers appeared at the corner and went down in a fireball. Alistair suddenly squeezed into the narrow space on my right and there was a bellow as Oghen scrambled through the gap on my left.

A very short time later Alistair and I locked eyes through the slits in our helmets.

"I can still sense the emissary close by."

There was no way he could see my grin but I gave him one anyway. "Let's go get him!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: well, this is it. Not for _**MoN**_, but for regular updates for the foreseeable future. I'm leaving for a three-week course on Sunday and may or may not have the chance to write on my customary schedule. I'm hoping you won't have to wait a month for the next update, but I can't make any promises that you won't. So please be patient; I hope to reward that patience as soon as I can._

**AD Lewis:** _a pairing will rear its head in the near future, but I can't say who'll be involved._

**SnowHelm:** _Sten seems to have layers to him, but most of those involve accomplishing the mission. And since he's the equivalent of a squad or platoon leader some of those layers are meant to ensure his companions are able to back him up._

**InsidiousAgent:** _thanks for the compliment. As I've said before I'm more of a technical report writer but I've spent some time behind the DM screen. That's helped me learn how to push out details and create a bit of atmosphere._

**Phygmalion & Shinkansen: **_I really appreciate the feedback on Leliana. I think her in-game banter makes her seem a bit flighty and girly-girlish, but she's got a rough background and a hard edge that I think we don't see enough of outside of her DLC. Unfortunately that hard edge hasn't had much opportunity to show itself but, [MINOR SPOILER] I do have a couple things in mind._

**xUnDeadKittenx:** _and thank you as well! I'm trying to include a little party banter here and there and I'm glad you're enjoying it._

**everyonesgonecrazy:** _I'm big DA fan, but I love the ME series as well, so please don't take the challenge too seriously. But at least both fandoms seem be gaining steadily on _**Final Fantasy VIII**_. Charge!_

_The Orzammar politics were actually fun to think about and write out. I had a couple of interesting discussions with_ **Beta Reader** _that generated a lot of head canon. Unfortunately, Jeff just wasn't able to see the behind-the-scenes activities, and only got a rough picture of what was happening._


	66. Timelessness

Like I said: privacy's hard to come by right now. I'd been snoozing but somewhen during their talk their voices woke me up.

"I cannot believe you told her that." She may have been whispering but Leliana actually snapped at Wynne.

Wynne's whispered reply was calm but firm. "I told her my thoughts on things, and I merely asked her to think things through. To consider-"

"That was not your place!"

"Neria's been my student for years, and she is used to seeking me out for advice. I believe it was my place to give her the advice she sought."

"And she broke poor Alistair's heart."

"She did _not_ break his heart. He is-"

"Have you not seen him moping every time he looks at her?"

"He's disappointed, but it was an infatuation. He'll-"

"How do you know? Do you know his heart?"

"I'll admit that I don't, but Alistair – and Neria – are both young, and scared, and confused, and seem much more likely to merely seek comfort from one another than to truly be in love."

Leliana huffed.

"Glare at me all you like, but I stand by my words. But perhaps when all this is over-"

Leliana fired off something in Orlesian that was sharp enough to make me start. "Shh," she said gently. "There is no need to be alarmed; I did not mean to awaken you." I heard her stand and walk away. "Another time."

I didn't have to fake sleepiness. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need worry about," Wynne said. "How's your leg?"

"Okay." I rearranged myself, got a little more comfortable, and laid there listening to the gentle and not-so-gentle breathing around me until I realized I wasn't getting back to sleep.

* * *

><p>Oghren jammed his finger down on the map. "Ortan Thaig's where we're going. Branka figured that's where the Anvil would be."<p>

Neria looked at the map. "Are you sure?"

Oghren shrugged but kept his finger in place. "That's Caridin's home. Good a place as any to start looking for Branka."

Neria simply nodded. "Then let's go."

"I've been waiting for someone to say that for two sodding years." Oghren snatched his finger back and started rolling up the map.

"Uh…."

Everybody turned to stare at me.

"Oh, Maker," Alistair muttered.

"She won't be there," I said flatly.

Oghren narrowed his eyes at me and growled something.

I stared right back. "Think about it. It's too close to Orzammar. Even with all the darkspawn running around don't you think you'd've heard _something_ from her? I mean, if she'd found the Anvil wouldn't she have come marching back to Orzammar and…? I don't know. But I guarantee you – uh, promise – she's not at Ortan Thaig."

Everybody was quiet for a moment then Oghren growled again. "You sure about this, shaper?"

"Positive."

Oghren looked around. "Whatta the rest of you think?"

"Jeffrey is usually right about things like this."

Oghren focused his attention on Leliana. "So you're with him on this?"

"I am."

The dwarf picked another target. "What about you?"

Sten was as impassive as ever. "I believe Jeff's logic is sound. But it is not unassailable. For example, your Paragon may simply prefer to remain apart from your society."

"Oghren," Wynne asked, "are you sure Branka would have gone to Ortan Thaig? Couldn't she have gone somewhere else?"

Oghren grumbled a little. "There wasn't anywhere else for her to go. She had to start looking there." He took a hit off his flask. "Unless you think you know something she didn't."

I do. "Let's see the map."

"Missy?"

"Show him the map."

Oghren grumbled again but rolled the parchment back out. "Tell me something." He took a long hit off the flask.

I took a look at the map. There's a dent where Oghren had put his finger down on Ortan Thaig. I made a guess and asked, "We're here, right?" I tapped what I thought was Caridin's Cross and moved my finger along a heavy line. "Thaig, thaig, another crossroad, thaig...what's this?" My finger ended up on an icon that seemed to be representing a heavy wall.

Oghren took a look, took a drink, and snorted. "Dead Trenches. Darkspawn territory. Nobody goes that deep anymore. But…." He took another drink. "It used to be Bownammer. Good fort, but overrun ages ago. But built by Caridin, and Branka knew that."

I stayed quiet.

Oghren stared angrily at the map. "Bownammar." His voice was quiet. "Well, it's the Dead Trenches now. They say the darkspawn nest there. Whole herds of 'em. But if that's where Branka went, that's where I'm going." His voice turned challenging. "So I'll ask you again, shaper: you sure about this? Cause it's a long way back to Ortan Thaig from there."

The only reason I could think of to go to Ortan Thaig would be to help that nice dwarven lady I met in the library. "I am absolutely positive."

Oghren stared at me for a long moment before finally muttering, "Missy, whatta you think?"

Neria just simply looked at me. "Jeffrey, are you sure?"

"Yes."

Neria held my eyes for just a few seconds then gave me the faintest ghost of a smile. "Any objections?"

"Are you certain of this, mio amico? For if we sidestep this thaig and our guide's bella is truly there…."

I nodded. "I know, but…it makes sense."

Zevran didn't look too sure, but, "Si. It does." He bowed shallowly to Neria. "No objections, mio capo bella. I leave the decision in your lovely hands."

"Thank you. Anyone else?" When no one else spoke up Neria bent down over the map. "Oghren, how far to the thaig?"

"Two, maybe three wakings."

Neria traced a couple of routes and shook her head and mumbled something. "…leftover deepstalker." She looked up at me.

"Positive," I said before she could ask the question.

Neria shifted to Warden mode. "Right! We're going straight to Bownammar."

Oghren _hmphed._ "If you say so, missy. Shaper: you better be right." He hoisted his flask. "Ah, well. Bownammar, here we come! Who's drinking with me?"

"Grazi, but no."

"I said I'm dry."

"Never again!"

"That…liquid is not fit for consumption."

"Fine; more for me. Wait! What about you? Oh, come here you stone-licker! I thought Mabari were supposed to be brave!"

* * *

><p>I watched Zevran literally move silently up a low and narrow tunnel. He was keeping to the sides and moving through the shadows like another shadow; the only reason I could track him was because I'd been following his movements. He glided on his soft boots until he was directly behind the hurlock mage we were after. Zevran's knife flicked up without reflection and slammed into the mage's throat. His other knife went into the creature's back. The genlock just beside the two turned and tried to react but Zevran was already on it. The knives flicked again and the genlock went down silently. The archers in front of the mages wobbled as Zevran eased back towards me then blindly charged into the darkness.<p>

Zevran sashayed back to where Leliana and I had been trying to cover him, but probably futilely because of the low ceiling. He pulled down the light leather mask from his mouth and nose and gave us a cheeky grin. "It is wonderful to be in a situation where one's skills are an advantage, no?"

I ran a critical eye down his torn and patched leather skirt thing. "Maybe you should quit acting like you're wearing plate and stay out of the melees."

"Ah, mio amico, life is meant to be lived, and I can think of few places better in which to be alive." He was pointedly staring at Leliana.

I happen to agree with his assessment, but only in a hypothetical sense. And I do like the guy's style. But for appearance's sake I had to frown at him. "Come on; let's get back to the others."

* * *

><p>"I don't get it," Alistair asked, "what's a tank?"<p>

"No, Who's the tank."

"I…don't…know."

"That's the paladin; we're not talking about him."

"What's a paladin?"

"No, What's the mage…." ***

* * *

><p>"You must be feeling better." Wynne passed me a cup of tea.<p>

I accepted the tea and slurped gratefully. "Not really, but why?"

"The word play you had with Alistair earlier. I haven't heard you tease him in…well, a long time."

"Alistair's a great straight man."

Morrigan spoke up from her blanket. "The Templar is still a fool. Now silence! I wish to sleep." She rolled away from us.

"Sorry."

Unintelligible grumbling came from Morrigan's direction.

I lowered my voice and leaned into Wynne. "Actually, I feel like my brain's about to leak out my ears." She reached a hand out to me but I caught it. "Not that way. We're just…I just…we've been down here how long? No breaks; no chance to relax."

Wynne nodded in understanding. "I feel the same way. I'm…tired. I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have come with you."

"No, it's good to have you here."

"But I'm slowing you down."

"No, these damn caves are slowing us down. How many times did we back track the last…couple of days?"

"Quiet!"

Wynne gave my knee a scritch. "Just sit for a while and let the tea work."

"Thank you!"

"I can detect sarcasm, you know!" I snapped at the witch.

Neria's voice hissed out from her blanket. "Jeffrey! Morrigan! Enough, both of you!"

"I am-"

"I said enough! And Jeffrey: no writing!"

And no sleeping either, despite the tea.

* * *

><p>Twelve plus feet tall. Muscles on top of muscles bulging out of brownish-gray skin. Arms bigger than Zevran. An almost ape-like face. A mouth filled with blunt but still impressive teeth. Horns curling back off the head, branching into splintered ends. A darkspawn body went flying as the ogre literally slapped it aside during its charge.<p>

"Tank!" I shouted. "Talk to us, Alistair; whatta we do?"

"Spread out, don't let it grab you – or stab you – and aim for the weak spots!"

We'd been briefed on the things but at the time my answer was, "What fucking weak oh shit!"

I dodged the ogre's bigger-than-Sten sword only because it (the ogre, not the sword) turned with the grace of a school bus. The entire group scattered as the ogre charged through us then I heard a _thunk_ and felt a sharp pain in my ribs. There was a blast of cold air and the ogre roared, and then a _crack_ and an even louder and anguished roar, and then finally a _yipe_ from Cullen. I cut down a hurlock that was following in the ogre's wake then watched another hurlock's head roll by with a very angry expression on its face.

"Come on, shaper!"

Oghren spun me around, yanked the arrow out of my chest, and shoved me towards some darkspawn archers. I was seeing stars but I threw my shield up and caught at least another arrow as I charged behind the dwarf, but I was losing ground to his stubby little legs because it hurt when I breathed. But I got a great view of Oghren imitating a bowling ball and charging through the archers with a sadistic laugh. He kept going and closed with the darkspawn mages. I came in a few seconds later and picked up the spare. I was surrounded by darkspawn so I just started stabbing and smashing and slashing at anything without a red beard sticking out of its helmet.

And then Oghren was standing in front of me, helmet in hand, and giving me a grin. "Rutting good job there, shaper!"

Then I remembered the others. "Oh, shit! What about-"

"Take a look. Heh. Pretty boy didn't do too bad for himself."

The ogre was down. Alistair, with Sten's help, was rolling the monster in order to reach his sword. I thought about helping but still couldn't breathe right. The mages were nowhere to be seen, but Zevran was on the far side of ogre and watching something on the ground with a frightened look on his face.

I took a step towards the others, but with the adrenaline gone I wasn't getting anywhere. And it hurt more to breathe. A lot more.

"You all right, shaper?"

My response was to wheeze and wobble.

"That arrow still biting you?"

More wheezing.

Oghren grabbed me and made me hold still. He shoved my arm out of the way and started fumbling with my armor. "There!"

I felt the strap give way and a python wrapped itself around my chest. I wheezed again as things went dark.

"Hey, shaper…!"

* * *

><p>I was drowning. The surface was right <em>there<em> but I was floating just below it. I tried kicking and paddling, but my limbs were weighted down with all my worries, and I didn't get any closer to the air. And then I gave up, because, frankly, it felt good to just stop fighting. I was tired and scared and tired of being tired and scared and just wanted to close my eyes and let whatever was going to happen just happen.

And suddenly my head broke the surface and I tasted blood and pain and I took a deep, gasping breath, then another, and another, and then a panicked one because I couldn't move.

Morrigan's shadowed face appeared above me. "You are well," she said calmly and not unkindly. "Cease your attempts to thrash about and I will release you. Blink – slowly – if you understand."

_Calm blue ocean. CALM BLUE OCEAN._ I couldn't make a fist, but I could breathe, so I concentrated on that and heard my heart slow down. I closed my eyes, counted to three, and opened them again.

"Very well." Morrigan reached for me with a ball of dark energy and ran a cool, dry hand across my forehead.

My arms jerked. One of them caught Morrigan, but she reacted with annoyance rather than anger. "Remain still," she said firmly.

Oghren spoke up from where he was letting go of my legs. "Told ya I shoulda sat on him."

Morrigan ignored the dwarf. "Can you breathe comfortably?"

I took a deep, careful breath. "I think so."

Morrigan stood up shakily. Very shakily. "Good. Remain here and _rest_ until I am able to examine you further."

"Wait. Uh…what happened?"

Morrigan glared. Not at me, but at Oghren. "The fool dwarf broke off the arrowhead when he removed the shaft."

"Hey, I sodding said I was sodding sorry!"

"'Tis not me you almost killed." Morrigan turned carefully and walked away. Her usual grace was marred by her obvious exhaustion.

I wasn't up to appreciating the view, so I looked back at the dwarf.

"Yeah, well…." Oghren rubbed his chin then reached into a hidden crevasse of his armor and pulled something out. "Like I said: good job, and here's your reward. Not too shiny, but carry it with pride." He held out a jagged arrowhead dangling on a filthy string. The barb had dried blood on it. Freshly dried blood. "I'd offer you a drink but the bitch-witch says it's not fit for humans. Told me to drink all I want, though." Oghren shrugged as he dug out his flask. "Didn't stop her from cleaning your arrow-hole with it."

I tried to push myself up to sitting but Oghren stopped me with a hand on my chest. "Nope! You're not supposed to move. If I let you the witch'll braid my beard through my brain. So just lay back and try and rest." Oghren took a long and noisy drink.

I turned my head but couldn't really see anyone else from where I was. "Was anybody-" I stopped; I wasn't sure if I wanted to say 'killed'or just 'hurt.'

Oghren nodded and spoke seriously. "Red got hurt bad. Don't worry; boss and grandma patched her up. That's why the witch is taking care of you. Well, grandma helped, but the witch did the work." Oghren took another drink and answered my question before I could ask it. "Red's got some stones. Faced down that ogre with nothing but a strung stick and a little pointy stick." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "Human women don't have stones, do they?"

"Only metaphorically."

Oghren considered the unfamiliar word for a moment then shrugged philosophically. "I'll take your word on it. So, yeah, Red's got stones. So does missy. Used that magicky spear staff thing of hers to stab a couple blighters. Got knocked rump over tits, but don't worry, she's fine, just worn out from fixing up Red." He took another drink as he made himself comfortable at my feet. "You know, I had my doubts about you sods, but I think I made the right choice tagging along. Been a long time-" He snorted. "You know, sod that! Now's not the time to get rutting sentimental. Good job there, sorry about the arrow, and all of you got some stones. If the blighters got ancestors they better call to'em cause here we come!"

* * *

><p>"So I take it you've given up on trying to possess me?"<p>

D-Amy smiled. The teeth still weren't human.

[warning hiss]

"Keep your pet un-"

"He's…not…my…pet. Are we clear?"

That got me an inclined head. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Very well. But to answer your question: why would I give up? I long for the opportunity to visit your world-"

"So why me?"

"I find you…interesting."

[hiss]

D-Amy shot Thing an absolutely disdainful look. "Your…relationship with this…creature is troubling, though."

"It wasn't my idea, but it's worked out."

"And in your favor. But," she continued, "should you travel that way you'll find its way to be blocked. But you will find your other companions. Until the next time." She bowed and strolled away down a side passage.

[hiss]

"Yeah, I know. Come on."

A short endless time later Thing gave another hiss.

"Huh."

The dream tunnel was bisected by a bottomless-enough trench. It was only about eight or ten feet across, but a quick look at Thing confirmed my hunch that he's not built for jumping.

"I don't suppose you could-"

[negative hiss]

I had no doubts about my ability to jump the gap, but didn't want to leave Thing behind. "Should I…?"

[passive-aggressive hiss]

"Seriously?"

[apologetic hiss]

"Yeah, all right. Next time. We're probably safe enough here anyway." I took a seat against the tunnel wall and watched Thing hunker down across from me. "So. Have I told you about the time I saw a snapping turtle up close and personal? Sucker was this big and almost as ugly as you."

[annoyed hiss]

* * *

><p>Leliana smiled at me from the one bedroll we'd brought. "That is going to leave an interesting scar." She reached out and moved a rook.<p>

I gently probed the now-ticklish eye-sized and -shaped wound left over from Oghren's attempt at first aid. "Yeah, well-"

"Do not poke at it!"

I yanked my hand away guiltily. "-chicks dig scars."

Leliana giggled. "Some do. And you are well?"

"I feel fine, and Wynne says I'm good to go…." I took a pawn. "But until you are…."

Leliana smiled again and immediately moved a knight. But then her expression turned serious. "I know I should not be so vain, but the scarring: how bad is it?" She reached out and took my hand. "Please, be honest."

I took another pawn and examined the redhead. Her chest was wrapped in a bandage that kept her shoulder bare. The ogre had torn through her leathers like it was opening a Christmas present. There were two heavy, pink, and puckered scars running from her upper arm that narrowed and faded as they crossed her shoulder. But the ogre's claws had kept going. There was a narrow, fine, white, and nicely closed scar running from just behind her ear to the center of her cheek as if it had been painted there with a fine brush. A second, heavier scar paralleled the first along her jawline; an even heavier one was etched into the side of her neck. I reached out and, at Leliana's nod, ran a finger down the first scar. "This one should heal nicely, but the other ones – they'll probably need a lot of time."

"But are they bad?"

"They'll fade, but they're pretty…well…prominent right now. You could probably hide the one with makeup, but…."

"But?"

"You remember Isabela?"

"But of course."

I was hoping what I was about to say wouldn't hurt. "You could hook up with her and go pirate."

Leliana smiled again. "Now that is a possibility. The scars: they would add to my mystique, no?"

I let out the breath I was holding. "Tell everybody you meet a different story about them."

Her eyes twinkled. "I shall consider that."

"And get an eye patch. Just keep switching the eye it's on."

"A wonderful idea!"

"And think of what you can tell the grandkids. 'I got these travelling the Deep Roads with the Hero of Ferelden.'"

Leliana tilted her head. "'Hero of Ferelden'?"

Oops. "If we pull this off - if we kill the Archdemon - I think that's a pretty good title for whoever does it. Well, for whichever one of our Wardens does it."

"Hero of Ferelden." Leliana considered the title. "That has a suitably epic ring to it." She nodded at the little chess set. "It has been your move for some time."

"My bad. Um…." I frowned in frustration at the position on the board. "You wench!"

Red laughed. "You were far too distracted by my self-pity."

"If it was self-pity. Good job."

"Thank you. Shall we play again?"

"Set'em up."

* * *

><p>I. Fucking. Hate. Spiders. Didn't use to, but I definitely do now.<p>

It's not like we didn't have any warning. We started seeing bits of web and little crawlers running away from us. Neria had the right idea, though: she moved up on point with Alistair. We moved ahead slowly; every so often Neria would throw a fireball in a chimney crack, or down a side tunnel, or even directly ahead. It would usually just explode, but sometimes we'd hear a metallic chittering and squealing and know she'd taken out a nest.

"I had to do this at the Tower," Neria explained. "It's easier here. I can feel the Tainted ones."

The untainted ones, though….

Neria'd thrown a fireball into what looked like an empty dome, but as we moved through it a shadow swung out of the darkness, passed just over Oghren, and slammed into Sten's back hard enough to knock him down. Weapons were already out (actually, we've hardly put them away the whole time) so the spider only had a couple of chances to bite down on the giant. Well, the giant's armor; giant spider fangs aren't tough enough to pierce metal armor, although Sten's back plate ended up with a few scratches and a few smoking pits from the damn thing's venom.

Oghren stepped up, lined up, took a swing, and went tumbling rump over tits when another spider slammed into him. My sword was ready and I'd lined up a shot of my own when something hit me.

Morrigan stepped past me and snapped off a freeze spell that froze Sten's attacker solid. The big guy rolled over and the creepy-crawly slid off him.

"Nughumpers!"

Oghren thrashed about and there was a meaty thud and a hiss, and then a dark shape hopped into the shadows. I could hear the claws on the spider's feet as it scurried off. Sounded like a half-dozen dachshunds on a tile floor.

"Morrigan, what in the Maker's name are you doing?"

The witch had stepped up to her victim and from somewhere in her scraps pulled out a dagger. She placed the tip just behind the frozen spider's eyes and, just like you'd do with a lobster, shoved the knife into the thing's braincase. There was a sharp _crack_ as the frozen carapace gave way. Morrigan kept staring at the spider when she replied to Alistair. ""Tis more interesting than you. Neria: may we hold here for the moment?"

Neria's head was swiveling about. "I think so."

"My thanks." Morrigan went back to studying the spider.

"Something to take home to Mother?" Alistair asked. At Morrigan's glare he added, "Riiight," and went back to scanning the cave.

I was also scanning when something thumped into me from behind. I jumped and cut off a yell. Everybody turned to stare at me but Zevran waved them off.

"That was a lovely scream you let out when our bella obscura brushed past you, mio amico."

I answered without taking my eyes off the cavern walls. "I didn't scream."

I could hear Zevran's grin. "Does the phrase 'like a little girl' mean anything to you?"

"That's how I know it wasn't me. I can't go that high."

"Do not disparage yourself. Screaming so is a rare talent for man such as you."

"I did not-"

_Crack._

"You see?"

"That wasn't me!"

The crack had come from Morrigan's spider. She'd grabbed the end of a leg and pulled it until the joint broke. She twisted the leg; it popped wetly then came loose as she cut some remaining tendons. She wrapped it in a bit of spare cloth and tucked it into her pack. She nodded to Neria. "Let us be on our way."

"Hey, witch! Those aren't good eating."

"Thanks, both of you," I groaned. "I don't think I'll ever be able to eat crab again."

"What's a crab?"

"It's much like a spider, but from the sea, mio amico breve."

"Sea spiders? Why would I wanna eat one of those? And I ain't your sodding amigo!"

"But it is good to eat, especially the legs. And they crunch so satisfyingly when one opens them."

"Oh, well that's different. Good eating, you say? Tell me more, my sodding amigo…."

* * *

><p>I plopped down by Alistair with a <em>clank<em>. "Feeling okay?"

He raised his right arm and showed me the fresh scar on the inside of his bicep and the matching one on the outside. "What do you think?"

I gave the wound an appreciate nod. "Another beauty. Here. Leliana sent this back for you." I handed him a small, hard, and most likely stale cheese about the size of a hockey puck.

Alistair started drooling. "Where'd she find this?"

"Under some arrows in Sten's pack."

"Is she running out?"

"She's recovering what she can, but…." I finished with a shrug. We'd practically bought out Orzammar's supply of longbow arrows, but there were only a few score to begin with. And we could only carry so much.

Alistair cut a crumbling slice off the cheese and nibbled it thoughtfully.

"Isn't that…stale?"

He needed a sip of water to wash it down. "Dry, but right. I hope."

"Me, too. Last thing we need is another delay."

Alistair nodded and kept nibbling. "Make sure you thank Leliana for me."

"I'll do that." I started to lever myself up but Alistair put out a hand.

"Hold on." He sputtered cheese crumbs as he spoke. "I've been thinking. Once this is over what'll we do?"

Damn good question. Simple answer, though. "I guess we'll get on with life. I'll probably try to get home, Sten'll go-"

"No, I mean, here. The Deep Roads. When we get back to Orzammar."

"Haven't you asked Neria?"

"She hasn't been in the mood to talk much."

"Yeah, I know. She's, uh, kinda stressed right now."

"I think we all are." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I thought Zevran was going to punch Sten."

"Wish I'd been there to see that."

Alistair laughed softly. "I'd like to see what Sten would've done."

"I thought you were okay with Zevran."

Alistair cut another slice of cheese. "I am, I suppose, finally. I mean, I guess I'm over that he tried to kill us by ambuscade, and Maker knows he's had opportunities since then, so I trust him, I guess, but…."

I refused the offer of the bit of cheese. "But?"

"Does…he…his…way…work? With the ladies? You know: all the…."

"Uh…." I had to think about the question for a moment. "If you're asking what I think you're asking then maybe you should be talking to one of the ladies." Before Alistair could raise the obvious objection I continued. "Okay, definitely not Morrigan. And Wynne's probably not the best choice."

"And I'd really rather not talk to Neria. At least not about this."

"So that leaves you with two options."

"Two?"

"Leliana, or wait till we get back to Orzammar and talk to Selda." I threw an elbow into him. "Of course Leliana! Oh, and I'm not gonna let you putz around like you did with Neria."

Alistair winced.

"Ooh. Yeah. Sorry about that. Really."

Alistair held the wince. "It's all right."

"I am sorry. Seriously."

"Thanks."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes while Alistair very slowly worked on the cheese. It looked like we didn't have anything else to say, so I started to get up again.

Alistair stopped me again. "Jeff. In all seriousness, when all this is over, and I mean the Blight, what will we do?"

"Like I said: we'll get on with life. I guess you'll, and well, Neria'll be Wardens, Sten'll go report to the Arishok, Wynne'll go back to the Tower-"

"What about you?"

"I'll try to get home. If not-" I gave him a big shrug. "I guess I'll find a little corner of the world to make my own." Complete with an Edisonian workshop; I'm not crazy or brilliant enough to emulate Tesla.

"Would you mind if I came to visit?"

"I'd be pissed – uh, mad – if you didn't."

"That's a relief. I didn't want to seem rude by extending myself an invitation."

"As long as you don't mind me dropping by your place unannounced."

"Not at all."

I pushed myself to my feet. "Glad to hear it. Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

So when all this is done. Alistair might be king; he might be dead. Or Neria might be. Or I might be. For all I know any of us could end up dead, but dwelling on that is an unproductive endeavor. Better to think positive, focus on the task at hand, and not worry about being dead until I am.

Wish me luck.

* * *

><p>[welcoming and questioning hiss]<p>

"No. The tunnels are making me crazy." I watched a black cloud being swarmed by golden specks scudding along in the distance. "This place may not make much sense but at least there's a sky."

* * *

><p>"I think so. But maybe I'm just not dwelling on things right now."<p>

"That is a possibility. Our current situation demands much attention."

"By the tits of my ancestors! Hey, shaper! Come here!"

Facepalm. "Oy."

"We will continue the conversation later."

"Thanks."

"You are welcome."

I left Sten to watch our six and dragged myself over to Oghren. The little shit was kneeling next to the wall with a huge, maniacal grin.

"What is it?" I asked resignedly.

Oghren pointed to a rough spot on the wall with a quivering finger.

"What am I supposed to looking at?"

"Stupid stack of meat! Right there! Can't you see it?"

I looked closer. "Something's…taken a chunk out of the wall?"

Oghren's hand came up and clanked me in the chest. "Sodding blind inbred nughumper!" The words weren't really angry, though; the insult actually sounded cheerful. "That's Branka's mark!"

That got everybody's attention.

Oghren shouted over our questions. "Of course I'm rutting sure! I'd bet both my livers that Branka came through here and went…that way." He looked around the crossroads we'd paused at then pointed down the wide road we'd been following. He jumped up and starting jogging. Everybody else scrambled to either get out of his way or keep up with him. But the dwarf skidded to a stop before we really got moving and knelt down again. "Hah!" He pulled out his flask and chugged happily. "Branka, you crazy bronto! Oghren's on your tail again!"

"That is not an image to which I desired to be subjected."

Oghren gave Morrigan a leer. "Sorry, witch-lady, but you don't got enough rump for me. Now your front side-"

"Enough, dwarf or I shall-"

"What? Magic me? You know I'm-"

"You are not resistant to having magicked rocks _fall_ upon you."

"Now you're just talking dirty."

"Enough!" Neria snapped. "Get moving! Oghren, lead the way and stay on Branka's tail. Trail!"

"Heh. Tail trail. Right, boss." But before he moved out Oghren swung by me and smacked my leg so hard I felt it through the armor. "Good thinking all those wakings ago! Saved us lots of time. Sorry I doubted you." Before I could answer he turned and trotted down the road.

I got Neria to give me a touch of healing power. While she did I noticed something.

"You're smiling."

She looked up from where she was kneeling beside me. "So?"

"I…haven't seen you smile in…well, a while now."

Neria stood up and leaned on her staff in the same way Morrigan does. She held on to the smile but I think it was meant for me. "I haven't had much to smile about."

"This isn't much."

"But it's something. And it's enough for now. Makes me feel like we're-" She stopped and actually laughed. Not much, but enough. "Like we're not just stumbling around in the dark."

I felt myself break out in a grin. "Good choice of words."

The smile softened. "Um…when we stop would you mind playing chess?"

"I'd love to, but Leliana's got the board. Sten wants a rematch."

"Oh. Well. Uh, maybe we could just sit and talk. We haven't done that in a long time."

"Yeah, I'd like that." I looked up the tunnel; the entire group was waiting on us. "We'd better get going."

Neria hoisted her pack; she kept the smile but now it was worried. "We're running low on food."

"Not yet we aren't."

"It's almost half gone. We'll have to turn around soon."

I shook my head and tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Not as soon as you'd think. We know the way back; it shouldn't take us as long." I resettled my significantly and disturbingly lighter pack. "Wait until when we're down to about a third of what we started with."

Neria thought about that and nodded. "Makes sense." I watched a single worry and the whole smile disappear from her face as she morphed back into the Warden. "Let's go."

* * *

><p><em>AN: back from school! Had an excellent time; lots of back-and-forth discussions, open-ended problems to solve, and interesting people to talk to. I actually managed to get my brain spun back up, but in a couple days my soul will once again be ground down like a block of fresh Parmesan at the Olive Garden._

_I'd like to thank you all for your patience while waiting for this update and hope it was indeed worth the wait._

_*** Respect needs to be paid to those due it. If you're not familiar with this classic please check YouTube for _'Who's on First?' _and then_ 'Who's the Tank?' _And it wouldn't hurt to check out_ 'Who's on Stage?'

**So you want to be an Author:** _thanks for the kind words. I've been trying to strike a balance between humor and drama and so far have been mostly happy with the results._

**Matalvis:** MINOR SPOILER: _I do have Shale scripted in._

**Her Eternal Grimoire:** _Jeff certainly gave it his best shot, but there's more to come._

**everyonesgonecrazy: Beta Reader** _has been an invaluable resource; she's caught characterization problems, syntax errors, and called me out on a couple of things as well. And we've had a couple of very long discussions regarding the overall plotting and some background events that'll probably never be seen in-story. So, again, thanks go out to her; I wouldn't have been able to get this far without her._

_I'm not gonna say much about Jeff's specialization; I'll let the story speak to that._

_Ah, the deepstalkers. In-game they drop lyrium potions of all things. So I thought about the idea and ended up with gizzards. Wonder how they'd be rolled on cornmeal and fried up?_

**AD Lewis:** _an immediate follow-on attack, especially against the two women, would have been just too random. I'd thought about a capture sub-plot but decided it would just be too cliché, plus I had no idea about how to even begin pulling it off. So as an experiment I actually drafted out a couple of scenes but nothing came of it._

_I've certainly made plans about going into the DLC territory, but that's a long way down the road._

**Oplindenfep:** _I had no idea who Lord Khorne was until I looked up the background. Interesting idea, but I don't think I'll be able to explore that path._

**SnowHelm & Phygmalion:** _thanks! It's one thing to write a fight from a third-person perspective, but the same fight is something completely different in the first person. But am I throwing in enough combat? Too much? Too little? I don't want to bog down in fight scenes, but I also don't want to turn the story into a soap opera._

_Oh, and sorry about skipping Ortan Thaig._


	67. Unexpected Encounters

Take a couple cups of flour and stir some sugar or honey into it. Mix in enough expired buttermilk or plain yogurt and water to get the consistency like pancake batter. Let it sit uncovered in a warm spot for a week or so, but stir it every day. Eventually it'll get foamy; that's because the yeast in the air teamed up with the bacteria in the dairy and blessed you with a brand new baby sourdough starter. Now take that starter with you on a long camping trip. Every morning poor half the starter into a Dutch oven. The original gets flour and water added to top it back off. The Dutch oven half gets mixed with enough flour (and a good pinch of salt) to make bread dough. Let the dough rise during the morning; punch it down and knead it a bit at noon. When you cook dinner put the Dutch oven in the coals of your campfire and wait a while. Pretty soon you'll have a nice hot loaf of sourdough.

I finished double-tapping a genlock. "That's what I miss the most right now. Fresh bread every meal."

Morrigan used her staff to finish her own double-tap. "And you wonder why I wonder at your sanity."

I yanked an arrow out of a random corpse and was perversely glad it had come out whole. "_I _wonder at my sanity."

"And well you should."

"'Tis nice to know we agree on something."

"I am certain we agree on much. Especially the state of your sanity."

"So does this mean-"

"_No. It does not._"

"Couldn't hurt to ask."

"Oh, but it could."

* * *

><p>"Shh!" I held up a fist for the third time. "There's something here. I can hear it again." I had my helmet off; whatever was scuttling around us was too quiet for me to hear with it on. I felt naked as hell without it.<p>

The stretch of tunnel we were facing was dim, but not dark. Narrow, but not tight. Crumbling, but not wrecked. 99% identical to the stretch of tunnel behind us. But that 1% made all the difference.

Neria was practically inside my armor. "I know. I can feel it."

"Them!" Alistair hissed from the back of the group. We were all so close together we could have fit into an airplane bathroom.

Sten's voice drowned out whatever it was I was hearing. "Are you certain? Perhaps-"

"Shh! What's the rule?"

Sten rumbled under his breath.

"There's something here," Alistair whispered firmly.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

I raised my sword arm and gently swept it backwards. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Let's just back up." I kept my eyes front as the group eased backwards. "How we looking back there?"

"Just-"

"Shh!" I thought I'd heard more scuttling.

Neria suddenly let out a breath. "They're going away."

I saw an opportunity and bumped Sten. "Forward! Quick!"

"What?"Neria squeaked.

"Go!"

"I understand! Tetha!"

Sten and I rushed forward through the aborted ambush zone. I caught a glimpse of a low, fast-moving, and disturbingly humanoid figure disappearing into the shadows. We stopped to let the others catch up.

"They're…gone," Neria said simply.

"For now."

* * *

><p>"No, I'm not rutting sure this is a good idea, but I am rutting sure that's Branka's mark. That means she went this way, so unless you know where she joined back up with the Roads we go this way."<p>

Alistair looked at Neria. Neria looked at me. I looked back at Neria and shrugged helplessly. Neria looked back at Alistair and shrugged. Alistair looked down the side Road, at Wynne, avoided Morrigan, and finally back to Oghren.

"I'm just saying that maybe walking through the dark, damp, and smelly cave isn't best idea."

Oghren lowered his flask. "You said yourself it's not Tainted. And you smell that?"

"How could we not?"

We'd been able to smell water in the air from at least half a mile back. Clean, fresh, water; not the moldy and musty smell we'd grown accustomed to even from the untainted springs. It was making my mouth water. OTOH, there was a definite undercurrent of funk (and not the good kind) coming from the place.

"Branka wasn't – isn't – stupid. Place like this she'd send scouts through so she'd figure out if it's a path worth taking. And that mark says she took it."

"And that means we do," Neria said.

Maybe half an hour later Oghren spoke up again. "So maybe this wasn't the best route she coulda took." He pointed at a cut glistening under a thin sheet of water. "But she did take it."

"How is this possible?" Alistair asked. He sounded grouchy.

I didn't really blame him; chilled water was running down the back of my neck. "Really, dude? After everything else we've seen and done you're choosing this to disbelieve?" I shook water out of my face and winced as my armor's padding chafed against my neck.

Sten shook water off his head. "The most logical explanation is a waterfall far above us."

Those of us not wearing heavy armor had it better. Cullen had it best; he was prancing ghost-like in the mages' light when he wasn't shaking or rolling. Shaking mostly.

"Ah! You sodding beast!"

"I am not certain which smells worse: wet dog or wet dwarf."

"Get bent, you oversized nughumper!"

My vote's for wet dog, although I'm probably a close third. Now if you'll pardon me I have to go and change my armor.

* * *

><p>"Three or four emissaries, a half score of archers, and perhaps two score others." Zevran dropped back into our cover as he spoke. "No ogres that I can see."<p>

I peeked out and confirmed Zevran's count best I could. Ogres, at least, are hard to miss.

"Are you certain your lenses are not enchanted?" Leliana asked.

"You're welcome to try them."

"Another time, perhaps."

I risked another look. "What are they doing?"

A handful of the darkspawn were milling around about a hundred fifty yards down the tunnel. They'd appear individually from the darkness, trot up to the group, then turn around and repeat the trip. The rest were standing alert and, from what we could see, just staring at the wall. The mages looked to be arguing among themselves, but I have no idea if that's what they were actually doing.

"I don't know, mio amico, but I think they're piling wood against the wall."

"Truly?"

"Si, bella rosa, but for what reason I wasn't able to discover."

Beat.

"Okay, that's weird. Even for darkspawn. Especially for darkspawn. Let's get back."

A couple hundred yards later Alistair asked the obvious question. "What are they doing?"

Zevran, Leliana, and I all shrugged.

"Perhaps they are assembling a device. No matter; we should confront them." Sten looked a bit more impatient than usual.

"There's a hundred yards of almost no cover we'd have to get across. They've got archers and mages."

"But no ogres. And we have prevailed in all our encounters thus far. There is no reason to think this will be any different."

I looked around the group. Every one of us is battered and bruised. The heavies all have multiple holes and dings in our armor. Zevran's and Leliana's leathers are being held together with luck and hope. Wynne's and Neria's clothes are more patch than original, although Morrigan's rags are somehow in better shape than when we started. And Cullen lost his collar somewhere; I think it was in the Rain Cave.

And Leliana's still got a pair of thin but noticeable scars that probably won't heal any further. I've got a couple new beauties. Alistair's got a one trailing off his eye that gives him a piratical look. (He and Leliana agreed to go into business together after the Blight.) Oghren's had half his beard burned off. (His cursing blew chunks out of the walls.) Wynne still has a limp from a deep sword cut, Neria's hand was smashed by a club, and Morrigan has the remnants of a near-eviscerating slash across her belly. Even Cullen is scratched and scarred; the only one of us without any real damage is Sten.

Somebody snorted.

Sten gave us that steady, level gaze of his. "I admit that our success is based upon sound planning. I had not intended to suggest acting in a foolhardy matter."

"Ah, well. I'm glad we cleared that up."

Sten opened his mouth.

"Sten, no. Alistair, be quiet. Oghren, can we go around?" Neria looked frustrated again.

"Don't know, missy. And I'd be afraid of losing Branka's tail."

"Jeffrey?"

"Maybe back up the tunnel a half-mile or so and wait for them to move. Or at least set up-"

"Shh!" Leliana hissed. "Listen! And look!"

The out-of-sight darkspawn had suddenly started roaring, and we could see flickering shadows being cast on the Deep Road's wall.

"Is that a fire?"

"What would they burn?"

Why would they start a fire? Not to cook. Maybe to burn through an obstacle, but nothing down here burns, does it? But to clear an obstacle – to do that you need to force the defenders away. I came to the same conclusion about two seconds after Wynne.

"They might be using that fire against people."

"Branka's people?"

"Don't know, missy, but if it's people…." Oghren shifted his weight and patted his axe handle.

"Right! We need a plan now!"

"Just like last time, but we're the ones moving," I said. "You and Alistair about 50 yards behind us, and close when we drop the mages." Take the mages down and the darkspawn get stupid. And they react negatively but even more stupidly when they sense the Wardens, but Alistair and Neria do have to be fairly close to them. I hoisted my crossbow. "Leliana, you wanna take the shots?"

She's down to a final quiver. "Only at the mages. But if you can take your shot first…."

"Right. Neria?"

"Everybody be careful. Let's go."

These are moments that should be caught on camera. Sten to my left, Oghren and Leliana on my right, Zevran and Morrigan and Wynne right behind us. Just a slow power walk down the center of the Deep Road; weapons out, faces grim, ready to kick ass and have it kicked in return.

A hundred yards away we could smell the smoke and hear the darkspawn laughing. Or growling. Or whatever that noise they make means.

"Sodding blighters. At least they're letting us sneak up on them."

"This is not sneaking," Sten said quietly.

"Hmph. Close enough."

At about seventy-five yards Leliana stopped and drew her bow. I took a few more steps, knelt, and balanced the crossbow on the grounded shield.

"Maker guide our hands."

"Somebody better." I sighted, forced myself to relax, final sighted, and shot. I didn't wait to see what happened; I put down the bow, let Oghren help me up ("Come on, you sod!"), yanked out my sword, and started jogging across the remaining distance, all the while hoping the main body of darkspawn wouldn't look back at us.

One of the darkspawn mages dropped. A second was already down. A third was just standing there _on fire_ and threw a ball of plasma at me. Okay, not at me, but I held up my shield and ducked anyway as the fireball went over my head. There was a shout from behind but I didn't look back; it was the stuff in front of me that I needed to worry about.

The darkspawn were reacting to us, but whatever or whoever'd distracted them gave us the chance to get close enough that it was too late. Oghren suddenly bellowed and broke into a sprint.

"Come on, you sods; you wanna live forever?"

"You mean that's not an option?" I leaned forward and accelerated after Oghren.

"Nera kadan!" Sten lumbered up to speed beside me.

Oghren hit the darkspawn like a cement block hitting a bowl of pudding. I heard Sten's sword whistling and decided following the dwarf might be a safer option. Zevran cursed as I dodged right then shouted ("Hah!") as he stabbed a genlock I'd bashed upside the head. Oghren's momentum gave out, but that was okay. I followed him into the fray; anything he didn't kill outright I took a stab at. Anything I didn't finish belonged to Zevran. And then omething shoved me from behind and I lost track of the dwarf.

A screaming darkspawn face, the whir of a sword whipping past, a hint of ozone beneath the reek of burnt flesh and much more pleasant smell of burning wood, flames from a bonfire, more screaming darkspawn, and, finally, a dwarf. But not Oghren. I had my sword back and was ready to swing at him; he had a spiked mace and was ready to return the greeting. We stared at each other over our shields for about three very rapid heartbeats.

"Say something!" he shouted. A stubbled face with sharp, intense, but not scared, black eyes scowled out from underneath a helmet.

"Uh…hello?"

Beat.

That got me a manic grin. "Good to meet you, Warden!" The dwarf looked hard to his left and slammed his shield into a darkspawn.

I looked hard right and punched the darkspawn in the side of its head. The dwarf finished the beast off by crushing its head with his mace. We turned as a pair and hacked our way through more bad guys.

"I'm Siver!" the dwarf shouted while we took a two-second breather.

"Jeff!" I pointed to where Alistair and Cullen were in danger of being overrun. "That way!"

"Right!"

Alistair was being slowly forced back by a mob of darkspawn. Cullen was creating enough havoc that Alistair wasn't being flanked, but he did need help. Siver and I rushed the back of the mob and ground our way through it.

"Uh…." Alistair started.

"Siver, this is Alistair!" I shouted. "Alistair, Siver!"

"Good to meet you too, Warden!"

"Right! Uh, introductions later?"

We charged back into the melee.

Fifty darkspawn are dangerous as hell. We'd taken their mages down first; they're just not that smart without them. Once we'd done that the remainder lost their focus and pretty much turned into an undisciplined but still dangerous mob. Good thing they were also distracted by the half-dozen dwarves they'd been trying to smoke out of a hole in the tunnel wall. After we'd killed the mages the fighters lost control and started surging into the tunnel after the dwarves who were, quite sensibly, hunkered down with the intention of lasting as long as they could. But then the Wardens got close, and that set the entire mob off. The dwarves saw their chance, popped out of their hidey-hole, and hit the bad guys while they were still milling about.

Despite the confusion from having too many good guys it was one of the easier fights we'd had since entering the Deep Roads. Nobody got hurt (too badly), the mages didn't tire themselves out (too badly), and I didn't even throw up (at all).

But while we were mopping up and double-tapping Sten called out, "Wardens. You will want to see this."

He was standing over a hurlock body, but unlike the rest of the darkspawn this one was actually wearing armor. Well-made chain armor with strategic bits of plate fastened on covered its torso and arms, and lighter plate and leather were protecting the legs. The sword the thing was still holding wasn't the standard darkspawn crowbar, but rather a tarnished and slightly rusty but still obviously quality item.

Oghren took a quick look. "Poor sod," he said quietly, and hoisted his flask to the body before taking a long drink.

Sten lightly tapped the monster's shield as we gathered around it. The shield was an elongated hexagon with a rampant griffon centered on it. Whatever satisfaction we'd felt at taking down way too many darkspawn vanished.

Alistair sighed. "Maker protect you, brother."

Neria was pale. "Is that – was that – a Grey Warden?"

"Most likely," Alistair answered quietly. "I'd, uh, heard that not all Wardens, uh, successfully complete their calling, but I've never seen it."

Neria just kept staring at the body until Wynne gently pulled her away.

"I don't suppose," Zevran asked, "if there's any way to tell who your compano was?"

"The Shaperate should have a record, but we usually leave everything that means anything behind."

"Perhaps we should add this corpus – and this one alone – to the pira."

"The body is no longer important. Instead, honor the sac-" Sten stopped speaking when I pointed at him and shook my head. Sten inclined his. "I will defer to your wishes on this matter."

Alistair didn't look or sound angry, just tired. "Let's get him on the fire."

* * *

><p>Neria pulled Alistair aside after we got the changed Warden on the fire. The two spoke quietly for a moment before Alistair reached out for the mage's hands; Neria let him take hers. There was another calm exchange of words before Alistair reached up with his little finger. Neria laughed, and then they pinky sweared and embraced as best they could around Alistair's armor. They came back to the group with a satisfied expression on each of their faces.<p>

Neria bowed to the funeral pyre. "Maker watch over you, brother." She turned to the rest of us, including the dwarves. "Let's go."

So now our motley crew is enhanced with five dwarves. There could have been six, but one of them hadn't survived the initial encounter with the darkspawn. Legion of the Dead, all of them, coming back from a trading and supply run to Orzammar, and carrying packs almost as big as themselves. On top of a heavy loadout of weapons, shields, and assorted bits of plate and chain armor. They'd unknowingly passed us during one of our side trips and it was pure bad luck they hit that mass of darkspawn and pure good luck we were right behind them.

A dwarf with an epic Crayola-orange mane and Civil War muttonchops by the name of Airson filled us in. "Ran into in those fellows not long before you showed. That Warden fooled us. The shield and armor; well, we thought it was a group of Wardens until we got too close."

"That's why I was ready to bash your head in." Siver gave a sharp laugh. "Or try to."

We'd found a pack a mile or so up the tunnel. Well, the remains of a pack. It'd been torn open and the non-edibles were simply scattered about. There wasn't much sign of its owner (a dwarf named Eskee), but he'd put up a good fight and given the others a chance to escape.

Airson continued his story. "…and we'd just decided we'd rather go out fighting than be roasted or smoked, and that's when you lot showed up. You started taking'em down from the backside, and then they went nuts when they smelled the Wardens."

A dwarven woman with dark blonde hair tied back in a long braid leaned forward and spoke with a quiet, firm voice. "I guess we're glad of that. It'll give us more chances to kill more darkspawn."

"Safa's right," Airson said, "we are glad of that."

"But what we don't understand," Safa said, her voice unchanged, "is why they were trying to flush us out of that hole instead of just throwing a fireball in."

"Safa's right about that, too."

"I'll take that question," I said before anybody else could answer. "Have y'all heard about Ostagar…?" They sorta had, but mostly from rumor and third-hand accounts. So in the interest of the narrative I passed the speaking stick to Leliana.

Our beat-up bard stood up, graciously acknowledged our audience, and began telling the tale that started-

"Has it really been that long?" I asked.

Red wagged a scolding finger at me. "Do not interrupt!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Five minutes into it Airson cursed in dwarvish. "Stone and Ancestors! A Blight?"

"Quite so," Leliana answered, and continued the story.

The dwarves listened quietly and seriously until Leliana reached the part about the farmhouse.

"That's why they wanted us." Safa said it in the same tone she'd said everything else. "As breeders."

The other dwarves exchanged worried looks. "Kardol'll wanna hear about this," Airson finally said.

The other dwarven woman, Ingerd, hadn't said anything up till then and still didn't. She did press her lips very tightly together and checked her weapons. Safa noticed the movement and double-checked hers as well.

* * *

><p>"Another tear in the Veil?" Neria asked.<p>

"'Tis plain to see," Morrigan said simply.

"Well, not for me."

"It does take practice," Wynne added.

"Not for him."

"That's not my fault! And I'd rather not be able to do it."

"So where is it?"

"Somewhere ahead."

"Bownammar, I think."

* * *

><p>"Neria!" Alistair's whisper hissed across the tunnel.<p>

"I know!"

The original group was already on alert. The Legionnaires, however…

Airson trotted up to Neria. "Little miss, something wrong?"

"Darkspawn. Lots of them."

Weapons check. "Then just like last time."

Alistair shook his head slowly. "No. It's a _lot_ of darkspawn."

"A _lot_," Neria confirmed.

Alistair shuddered. "Feels…like Ostagar."

Neria's head turned slowly to Alistair with worry on her face. "Is this what it felt like?"

Alistair nodded. "When we crossed the bridge I could feel the darkspawn army. It was a lot like this."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"An army?" Airson looked grimly eager.

"They're not close." Alistair closed his eyes and began turning his head as if he were listening to someone whisper his name. He slowly raised a hand and pointed ahead and down at a sharp angle. "That way."

My ding moment was combined with 'oh shit'. "Oghren!" I snapped. "Map! Now! Airson, how close are we to the Trenches?"

The dwarven team leader bristled at the command. "Who put-"

This wasn't a time to fuck around. "Do it! Now!"

"Listen to the shaper, Airson." Oghren was already digging through his pack.

Airson complied but didn't look happy. "Not sure. We came this way cause we're with you, and you're following the Paragon, and the Paragon came this way. I'd've taken another Road. Gotta be close, though."

"Jeff," Neria asked, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking the Dead Trenches and Bownammar are right around the next corner." We could see another collapse ahead of us, but this was one we could climb over. And Branka's marks were leading us that way.

A quick check of the maps, a quick look over the rubble by Zevran, and quick decision by Neria and the bunch of us scrambled more or less gracefully over the cave-in.

Neria was rubbing and shaking her head. "Let's be very careful here."

I resisted making the obvious sarcastic comment, but instead went with my standard warning. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You say that a lot, shaper." But Airson started readying his weapons.

"Hey!" Oghren snapped. "He may be a stack of meat but he's worth listening to."

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome, you inbred nughumper."

"Thanks."

We eased forward to the tunnel mouth and cursed as one. The Deep Road we were on lead to a bridge that was missing bulk of its span across an open chasm. But then I heard a sigh of relief and a "Thank the Maker!" from Leliana. She pointed to the right and we could see a path cut out of the rock along the edge of the chasm.

"Don't think Branka cut this, but her mark's here."

Neria's staff was shaking, but her voice was calm. "Then we go that way. Jeffrey, Alistair: you're on point."

If you're not claustrophobic or agoraphobic or just plain afraid of plummeting to a splattery death the path wasn't bad. Fortunately none of things apply to me, and, I guess, Alistair either. But there wasn't enough room for us to be side by side; we threw, got evens, so Alistair moved out first.

I was pretty sure this was where the Archdemon makes its cameo. No problem. It'll fly up, roar, shoot some fire, and fly off. But still I told Alistair, "Hey, let's be careful."

He held up a hand. It was actually shaking. "My Warden senses are screaming right now. By Andraste's knickers you can bet I'll be careful."

Alistair eased on to the path with me breathing down his neck, and Sten breathing down mine. No worries about slipping or falling, only about what we might find. But it was a short and easy walk that veered closer to the edge of the cavern until….

"Neria, put out that light!" I said it a lot more harshly than I intended, but Neria's staff was flickering wildly and she couldn't hold it still.

The strobe vanished and left Morrigan's and Wynne's softer and calmer illumination. "Sorry, but I'm-" Her voice was shaking too.

"It's okay, but-"

"Maker help us!" Alistair scrambled backwards and into me and yelped.

"It's just me, dude!"

"What is there?" Sten started pushing forward to get around me.

"Back off, Sten!"

"Dear, sweet Andraste, have mercy upon us!" Alistair's voice was cracking and shaking.

"Alistair?" Neria sounded near tears.

I pulled Alistair out of Sten's way and pushed him against the rock wall. "Dude. Calm down. Deep breaths. Can you do that for me?" I had my doubts about being able to do it for myself; if Alistair was this close to panicking then I definitely oughtta be.

"Jeff, is that you?"

"Vashedan!"

I suddenly heard sharp, panicked breathing from behind me. I glanced back; Neria was curled up on the ground, embracing Cullen, who in turn was growling so deeply I could feel rather than hear it.

"Alistair…come on, talk to me; I can't have you both-"

A roar came up from the chasm that dwarfed the thousand voices that roared along with it. Nauseatingly purple light reflected grossly off the chasm walls and the outcropped ceiling.

_Okay, it's the Archdemon. No problem. But the Wardens- _"Crap."

"It is the Archdemon! We should confront it!"

This wasn't supposed to happen, but it was, so, "Sten, in case you haven't noticed I'm dealing with a couple of major freakouts right now." Three if you counted Cullen. Four if you counted the one I should have been having but wasn't. "Somebody help Neria!"

"It knows we're here." Alistair's voice was coming back to normal.

"We may not have another such opportunity."

"Unless you're planning on throwing Alistair over and hoping he hits the Archdemon on the way down _it ain't happening!_"

Alistair's hand shot up and _clunked_ against my arm. "We need to move!"

That made my mind up. "Everybody! Back into the Road! Now!" My voice was eerily calm and clear; the panicked part of me was sitting in a corner of my brain saying, 'I'll just wait here until you're ready.' Smart guy. "Sten! You too! Go! Go! Go!"

Airson gave me a challenging stare. "You're not-"

I wasn't going to put up with any arguments. "Get Neria and go!"

Whatever Airson heard in my voice made up his mind. He grabbed Neria over Cullen's noisy objections. "Come on, little miss!"

"Alistair, you with me?"

"I am," but he didn't sound like it.

"I'm going to turn you around and want you to follow Neria. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, I can-"

"No!" Sten's hand clamped down on Alistair's arm "We are missing an opportunity to confront the-"

"The only thing we'll be missing is an opportunity to end up dead." I put my hand over Sten's. It was a purely symbolic gesture; no way I was prying him loose. It was too dark to see his eyes but I tried anyway. "Sten, this is not the time." I didn't think I could be that calm.

"You are not-"

I held up a hand; it was rock – make that stone steady. So was my voice. "I am ice cold right now. Here about ten minutes I'll be curled up in a ball pissing myself, but right now I know we need to back the fuck up."

Beat.

"We will speak of this later." Sten's hand jerked out from under mine.

"Damn straight we will. Come on, Alistair; let's go."

"Good idea." His voice finally sounded relatively normal, if a bit shaken.

Speaking of shaken, I definitely need to go and change my armor.

* * *

><p>"You fled in the face of the enemy. Such an action would warrant death in the antaam."<p>

"For the last time we're not in your blasted antaam!" Alistair was practically yelling.

"Sten, I told you we're not talking about this anymore!" Neria had her calm back, but her temper came with it.

"The two of you are Grey Wardens. Your honor-"

Neria whirled about with muscles popping in her jaw. "That's it! Stop!"

At my direction we'd crawled back over the rock fall and practically run back up the Road until none of us could run any further. The Legionnaires didn't understand the retreat, but didn't have a problem with it, either. At least not when the Wardens explained about the Archdemon. Sten, OTOH…

"No more from you about this!"

"Warden, it is-"

"You fucking bastard! I don't want to hear it! It wasn't in your head! It didn't tell you to come home! It didn't-" Neria stopped shouting and unsuccessfully fought against a disgusted shudder. "Aah!" She slammed her staff into Sten's chest and cried out again.

Sten flinched away from the staff's blade, but otherwise stood still.

Neria hugged her injured hand against her chest and fought against tears. "Sten, you don't understand. _It wasn't in your head._ If you can't understand that…then go. Back to Orzammar. Right now. "

"I…will not do that. Not only would doing so be foolhardy, I have pledged myself to you."

Neria stood in front of the giant and just shook. "Then try to understand. But if you can't-" She spun around and marched away, still holding her hand.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I always thought that cutscene at the Trenches is a little pat. Yeah, it gives you an idea of what you're going to be facing, but I would have liked a bit more psychological punch. Hope I got it across._

_Another shout-out to _**Beta Reader**_for her invaluable assistance with the trickier parts of this last chapter!_

**AgoTheTiny:**_ yay! I'm squee-worthy!_

**Selias & Anon42:** _thank you._

**Phygmalion:** _Jeff saw an opportunity to put his knowledge to good use and decided skipping Ortan Thaig was the best choice. But I don't think he considered anything except getting directly to the objective._

**xUnDeadKittenx:** _we didn't get to see the horde marching but I did want the Archdemon to have its cameo._

**Oplindenfep:** _why you think the net was born? Porn, porn, porn!_

**SnowHelm:** _thanks much. I do want to keep Jeff from being completely protected by plot armor, but having a couple of good healers around helps keep him (and everybody else) up and running._

**InsidiousAgent:** _I always wondered why ogres (or some of them, at least) didn't have weapons. But our heroes have figured out how to take them down._

**Shinkansen:** _Tesla's a pretty interesting character. Check out his Badass of the Week write up._ MINOR SPOILER: _there's some non-canon stuff going on behind the scenes right now, and there will be more to come. Expect it to leak into the main story._

**AD Lewis:** _I took some inspiration for the sentimental Oghren from his actions late in DA:O and Awakenings. I've always thought the guy has a soft spot; why else would he keep hoping to find Branka after two years?_


	68. Problematic

Writing like this is supposed to be therapeutic. I don't know how true that really is, but I suppose it's helped keep me sane this long. Although I'm beginning to think my insistence on chronicling this insanity is an insanity of its own.

But I'm sitting and watching Alistair write in his own journal. He doesn't write like me or Leliana. He takes his time and then carefully scratches down a sentence, then sits and thinks a while and then scratches down another. And then he shuddered from fear and/or disgust, and wrote a few words then snapped his journal shut. The clap echoed around the way station we're sheltering in.

He looked up and caught my eye. "Jeff, I'm so sorry."

"Dude, don't worry about it. None of us were expecting that."

"But you kept your head-"

"Only because the Archdemon wasn't in it."

"-while I was curled up in a ball and shaking for Maker knows how long."

I tried to give him a reassuring smile. "It wasn't that long, and believe me: you had a good excuse."

Alistair looked a little crazy from the memory. "But you-"

"Trust me. I wanted to panic. Still do, but-" I kicked at my sword. "-whatever enchantment Sandal put on there helped keep me focused."

A pair of shapely leather-scrap clad legs appeared in front of us. Leliana knelt down and offered each of us a mug of warm tea. "Wynne says she will have Morrigan put you both to sleep if you do not drink this."

I gave it a sniff; the aroma was dishearteningly familiar. "She give some to Neria?"

Red nodded. "She is sitting with her right now and watching her drink it. Do not wrinkle your nose at it, Alistair; just drink it." She held up a hand and gave him a warm smile. "And do not worry over your fright; it is most understandable."

Alistair mumbled something that I didn't catch.

"There is no need for that." She reached forward and gave us both a squeeze on our knees. "Both of you will drink your tea, and I will stay to make certain of it."

* * *

><p>"The young mage who accompanies you can be found that way." D-Amy pointed down a random tunnel.<p>

[cautioning hiss]

"You're coming with me this time. We're not having a repeat of last time."

D-Amy laughed. "You did not enjoy the prank?"

"Do I look like I did?"

[grumpy hiss]

"And I am sorry for that. But please; how did you know?"

"I already told you I'm not telling." (I'm not telling you, either; it's just too embarrassing.) I motioned down the corridor. "Lead on."

D-Amy turned and strutted down the corridor, morphing in D-Leliana as she went. In the short, skirted, halter topped leather armor. "Take care to enjoy the view!"

[another grumpy hiss]

"Can't hurt to look. Probably." But I took care to enjoy the view. Purely as a stress relief measure.

I got a pleasant few minutes out of the walk before D-Leliana morphed again.

"What the-?" I had no idea I was starting a bald spot at the back of my head.

[alerting hiss]

"Jeffrey?" Neria asked. "Is that you?" I was positive it was really Neria; she was radiating her reality, or at least my interpretation of it, like her robes were lined with neon tubes.

"Yep!" D-Me answered and threw its arms open. "Come here!"

Neria lowered her staff and walked forward to probably embrace the demon, but I intervened before things could get out of control.

"Excuse me!" I called.

"Don't pay any attention to him," D-Me said, "that's just the demon that's been following me around." He – it even had my speech patterns down.

"But-"

"It's just trying to tempt-"

"Neria," I asked, "would a demon be hanging with Thing here?"

He was standing right beside me and gave a questioning hiss.

"Uh…." Neria jumped back from D-Me and raised her staff again. Not the bladed one she's been using, but her old one from the Circle Tower. And she was in yellow robes.

D-Me laughed harshly, and Neria another step back. The staff's gem began to glow.

The demon rippled into its more-or-less natural form. "Relax, young mage, I haven't a desire to hurt you."

Neria's face was set. "Back away! Now!"

The desire demon bowed gracefully and strutted in reverse until Neria did relax the tiniest bit. "You see, young one? I mean no threat."

"I'll decide that." Neria kept her eyes on the demon. "Jeffrey, come here. Slowly. And keep…Thing over there."

I gave Thing a 'stay here' gesture. "Sorry."

[insulted hiss]

"Well, she's a lot freaked out right now. Aren't you?"

"Jeffrey," Neria asked, "what was the gift I gave you?"

I thought for a second, then reached inside my t-shirt and pulled out the whole and undamaged yin-yang; the dream copy of the one I'd arrived in Ferelden with. "It wasn't this. You got me a new one."

Neria did relax, mostly, but kept her eye on the demon. Still, she side-stepped into me and pressed herself into my side. Her free hand snaked around me and squeezed; I put what I hoped was a reassuring arm around her and squeezed back. I felt her relax under my arm. However that works.

But Neria kept watching the demon, which in turn was watching us with some expression I couldn't read. "Can't you leave us be?" she asked.

"Must I?"

"Yes!"

[supportive hiss]

Neria twisted against me as she tried to look back at Thing.

I gave her a side hug. "Don't worry; he's cool. Worry about the demon."

"You don't have to worry about me."

We both spoke at the same time. "I think we-"

The demon pouted, but it didn't work. "Oh, aren't you two lovely together."

"Just go away." Neria's voice was tight.

"When I'm ready. Not before."

I felt Neria tense back up so I gave her another hug. "Hey. It's okay. Come on." I moved us back across the small cavern and guided us to a rock. I sat down and pulled Neria down beside me. "If she doesn't want to leave we'll just sit here and ignore her. Thing'll keep an eye on her. Won't you?"

[put out hiss]

"Thing doesn't have eyes," Neria objected.

"They're in the back of his head."

"That's where Wynne keeps her spare pair."

"Wynne's a demon?"

"Sometimes I think so…."

I kept an eye on the demon while Neria and I (and occasionally Thing) talked. Not about anything important; just whatever came to mind. Although when I broached the subject of the Archdemon ("Do you want to talk about it?") Neria quickly changed the topic ("No.")

"But," she added, "I'm glad I'm here with you. I was afraid when I went to sleep-" She stopped talking and shook her head and leaned into me.

I put my arm around the scared little girl and let her rest her head on my shoulder. We sat in silence after that, and eventually Neria drowsed off and just fizzled into nothingness. The demon had been standing there quietly watching and listening; when Neria faded away it gave me a non-ironic bow and disappeared down a corridor.

I stretched and yawned and wondered why I needed to. "Oh, well. I'm gonna try to crash out. Goodnight, Thing."

[hiss]

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes to the sight of Ingerd watching me. I started to ask where I could take a leak but the short-haired and fiercely tattooed brunette shook her head and touched a finger to her lips then pointed to my right. Alistair and Leliana were snuggled up together and sleeping peacefully.<p>

I gave them a smile and turned to Ingerd. "They been like that all night?" I whispered.

Shrug.

"You don't say much, do you?" I'd never heard the woman speak. Not even a shout during the fights we'd been in.

Ingerd shook her head.

"Can you speak?"

She made a face and stuck her tongue out at me, but then she casually winked a bright eye at me. The expression was absurdly cute on the warrior woman's face.

"Vow of silence?"

Head shake.

"Just not much to say?"

Short, quick nod.

"Okay. Well, thanks for watching over us, and…talk to you later?"

That got me an eye roll, but also a smile and a nod.

* * *

><p>"Is that another fucking ogre?"<p>

"I don't know about the fucking part but I am pretty sure that's an ogre." Alistair gave me a friendly _clank_ with his shield. "But at least there's no Archdemon, right?"

"Small favors I guess."

There was a group of about thirty dwarves in heavy armor successfully holding off a small horde of darkspawn. They'd given themselves a narrow front and the darkspawn were cooperating with the tactics, but as we approached a fireball arced up from our left and splashed down in the mass of dwarves. They handled it well, though; they'd separated, retreated, and reformed at a crisply shouted command. But though they avoided casualties they'd also lost ground, and didn't have much further left to retreat.

"The Legion!" Airson grabbed Alistair's arm. "We'll hit the blighters there! You and the shaper in the middle, big guy and Oghren on the left, and we'll be on the right."

And that's when we saw the ogre wading forward. No sword for this one, but it was carrying a stone club the size of my leg.

Airson slapped his axe against his shield and yelled again before anybody could raise any objections. "We'll take any favors we can get. Charge!"

"No!" I bellowed before anybody could move. I pointed towards the ogre. "We've gotta isolate and take that thing down! And the mages, too! Same formation, but that way!"

"Get-"

I cut Airson off. "The ogre and the mages first! Got it?" I didn't wait for answers. "Good! That way! Charge!"

Our Legionnaires took off at a fast jog in more or less the direction I'd indicated. I swore and yelled, "Come on!" and the rest of us heavies followed with the less well-protected folks right behind us.

"Right here!" Neria yelled, and then she grunted. "Ah!"

A fireball hissed past us and exploded in the darkspawn rear. The ogre was suddenly covered with a layer of frost, but it shook the ice loose and bawled and looked around for the source. The bulk of the darkspawn continued after the main dwarven formation, but as we drew closer there was a ripple in the monsters' ranks as they started turning towards us.

Alistair and I hit the darkspawn at the same time, but something cracked against my helmet and made me see stars for a moment. Didn't matter; I could feel Alistair to my right so I just blindly stabbed forward and got lucky enough to hit something.

"Come to Oghren you blighters!" _clank_ "Watch your left!" _Hiss-whoosh-boom._ [angry roar] "Oh, shit!"

The ogre's club came down between me and Alistair as we dodged in opposite directions and sent rock splinters _pinging_ off my armor. Sandal's clarity gave me the presence of mind to swing at the beast's arm; I felt the blade bite deep but didn't bother seeing what kind of damage I'd done. The club came up as Alistair stabbed the ogre from the other side. It dithered just long enough for me to take a pretty good, but ultimately ineffective, shot at hamstringing it as I tried to get behind it. Then a fireball exploded in the ogre's face. Not one of Neria's mini-nukes, but still big enough to stagger the ogre and knock me on my ass.

Getting to your feet in plate armor with a shield strapped to one hand and a sword in the other in the middle of a melee isn't the easiest thing in the world. I took the simpler route and started hacking at any unarmored feet that came near and hoped the ogre wouldn't turn around and see me. Or at least that it wouldn't take a few steps back and step on me.

"I am behind you, mio amico!"

That's probably the only time I'll ever be happy to hear that phrase. Zevran's a strong little guy; he got me levered up and with the help of a short figure in heavy armor got me back on my feet.

"What the _fuck_ did I say about you being in a melee?"

The elf gave me a smile and a shrug. "Scold me another time! You're needed over there!" He pushed me back into the fight.

The ogre was still up but being brought down by the dwarves swarming around it. It was staggering and thrashing about wildly; Neria's fireball had blinded it. She's a smart girl; we'd held an AAR after taking down the first one we'd encountered and decided that was the best way to take them on.

"Come on, you sods!" the anonymous dwarf growled.

I headed in the direction Zevran pointed; there were a lot more darkspawn still up, and the field was too crowded and chaotic for AOEs. But with the ogre and the darkspawn mages down we were in grind mode. We were armored; the darkspawn usually weren't, and when they were it was light stuff. Their weapons were crude; mostly the sharpened crowbars we'd been seeing all this time. Still, the darkspawn are dangerous, and they just keep fighting until they go down, and sometimes after that. And they don't care about casualties; if one does go down another one steps into its spot. Having our mages helps, but the darkspawn are always fresh and there's always another one. So I laid about with sword and shield and elbows and knees and just concentrated on making sure whatever I was swinging at was really a darkspawn.

But, eventually, they do run out for the time being, and then there's the unpleasant task of checking on your casualties and making sure there aren't any wounded darkspawn just lying around waiting to pounce. If you've got a cut or some kind of open wound it has to be cleaned. Soap and water works on the shallow wounds, but Oghren's fire water is usually more convenient if somewhat harsher.

"Atrast vala, Warden."

I looked down at the dwarf who'd greeted me and pulled off my helmet. "Sorry. Not a Warden," I panted in response then started surveying the carnage. Something was tickling the back of my brain.

"Well, atrast vala, human warrior. What-"

"Hold that thought. Sten," I called. "Where's everybody?" There were plenty of dwarves moving around poorly lit cavern, but what worried me was that I couldn't see as many taller folks as I should.

Sten was only about twenty feet away. He answered as he yanked his sword out of a fallen darkspawn's chest. "I do not know."

"Zevran!" I called.

"I'm here. But where are our Wardens? And the mages? And our bella rosa?"

I'd figured the mages were helping the wounded, but, "Did you say 'Wardens'? As in both of them?"

"Si, mio amico."

"Alistair! Neria!"

"Jeffrey!" Leliana's voice rang out from across the cavern. "We are here!" A single pale arm waved, barely visible in the dim light.

I stabbed a moaning darkspawn (I'm beyond caring what kind they are; if they're standing I just aim high or low) and scrambled and slipped across the battlefield. I could finally see Neria moving about, checking on dwarves, shaking as she did, but it was Wynne and Morrigan and Leliana who caught my attention. Still, "Neria, you okay?"

She looked up at me with shaking hands and unfocused eyes. "I need lyrium," she said, her voice slurring with exhaustion.

I held a hand out. "Come here."

"No. You're disgusting."

I shouldn't have been insulted but at the time I thought she was talking about me personally rather than all the gore on the armor. "Fine, then. Leliana! Come help Neria!"

Leliana called back with a tight voice, "I am needed here."

Wynne and Morrigan were hunched over a supine figure. I got a chill when I realized who it was. I actually ran over to the trio and slipped and crashed when I tried to stop too short.

Leliana spun around to me but I waved her off. "I'm okay. Go help Neria. Please."

She nodded and wiped her eyes.

"Neria needs a lyrium potion."

"I understand."

"Leliana. If she doesn't know don't tell her."

The bard's face hardened. "I understand."

I nodded to the mages. "Anything I need to do?"

"Only if they ask." Leliana pressed a couple of vials into my hand.

"Got it."

She stood and went in search of Neria. I just watched Wynne and Morrigan work on Alistair until Morrigan handed me a bloody length of rebar. Alistair's breathing suddenly went from wet and ragged to just wet and his sudden coughing fit made us all jump.

"He should be well, but he'll be coughing out blood for a time," Wynne said clearly, and then she collapsed.

"Blast," Morrigan muttered and just shoved Wynne aside.

"Hey!"

"The Templar is still in peril."

"Doesn't mean you have to treat- Oh, shit!"

Wynne was gray enough for it to be obvious. I wiggled out of a gauntlet and tried to check her pulse but couldn't find it. "Morrigan, I need your help here."

She didn't even look up. "I am tending to Alistair."

"I need you more." I dropped my shield and the other gauntlet. I checked Wynne's throat; still no pulse. Ear to her nose; no breath. "Morrigan," I snarled, and located the correct spot on the rib cage. "Sorry, Wynne." I started the chest compressions. "Morrigan! Ten seconds is all I need."

"The Templar requires my attention."

To punctuate her statement Alistair went into heavy coughing fit. It was wet and bloody; poor guy sounded like he was drowning. But at least he was breathing.

I helped Wynne breathe and hoped I was doing it right. It's been a long time since I'd certified on CPR. Back to compressions. "Morrigan. Ten. Seconds."

Morrigan's voice came back tight. "Alistair. Is still. In peril."

"Not as much as Wynne." I went down for another breath.

Morrigan finally looked in my direction. "What are you doing?"

"Morrigan. I need. Wynne needs. Your help."

She looked back and forth between Wynne and Alistair. "Blast," she panted. I saw the hesitation in her eyes when Alistair coughed again.

"Morrigan!"

It took her about ten seconds, but it felt like forever. The energy she was pushing into Alistair faded. "Very well." Morrigan snatched up a lyrium vial and slugged down the cheerfully blue liquid. Her shoulders rose slightly, her hands steadied, and, after a slow blink, she pulled herself erect. "Cease your…actions." A bluish-white glow appeared in her hands and she leaned into Wynne.

I fell back panting and watched as Morrigan considered the problem. I know Wynne's been tutoring her on healing, but Morrigan just doesn't have the aptitude for it. Which is weird, because Neria's just as destructive as Morrigan, but our young Warden does seem to have a knack for healing. Maybe it helps to actually care about people. Anyway…

Those thoughts ran through my head so I bellowed for Neria.

"A moment!" came Leliana's answer.

"Now!" was mine.

Morrigan huffed and the blue-white energy was suddenly swirled with black and yellow, and then there was nothing. Wynne took a sudden, clichéd, deep breath and started coughing. I leaned over and checked Wynne's pulse. Stone steady. I leaned back with a sigh and suddenly had a lap full of mage.

"Jeffff!" Neria's eyes were still unfocused, but all her energy was back. And more; she leaned in to hug me and I could feel little sparks jumping between our skin.

"Do I smell-"

"Brrrrrandy! Ooh, and lyrium!"

Brandy? "Where…."

Leliana winced. "I saw Oghren gave her a drink right before I got to her. She took a draught to recover from that."

"And thennnn I drank anotherrrrrr draught, another draught, another draught," Neria sung into my face.

"How…much...?"

Leliana frowned. "At least three."

Morrigan looked up from the softly coughing Alistair with an unreadable expression.

"Neria," I asked gently, "could you check on Wynne? Make sure she's all right?"

"Cccccertainly!" But first Neria leaned in and kissed me sloppily and painfully on the lips.

Seriously, it did hurt. And I heard the _snap _of whatever sparked off Neria into me. "Ow!"

Morrigan looked up again, but kept close watch on Alistair.

"I'm sorry." Neria reached up and brushed me with a touch of healing power, but she zapped me again at the same time. "Oh!"

I grabbed her arms and tried to turn her around. "I'm fine, just…take care of Wynne. Please."

"Whyyyyy…are Wynnnnne and Alistairrrrrr taking nnnnnaps?"

"Perhaps because they are tired?" Morrigan's eyes flashed a warning at me.

"Wynne was not-" Leliana started, but stopped at my head shake. "Neria, please. Just examine Wynne and Alistair. See if they need your help."

"Neria," I said quietly, "they're-"

"Oghren! You are my ffffffavorite crazy red-haired dwarf!"

Oghren bowed. "Honored to be of service. Now what's wrong with grandma and the pretty boy?"

I felt Neria's gears grinding as she took in the unconscious pair. "Wynne? Alistair? Are you hurt?"

"Neria," I said quietly, "why don't you check on them and see?"

"Ooh! Good idea!" She crawled off my lap and over to inspect Wynne. "Wy-ynne. Sennnnnnior Enchanter. Time tooooo wake uh-up…."

I gave Morrigan a look that I hoped she interpreted to mean 'let her look at Wynne first.' When the witch acquiesced I turned away from her. "Oy."

Oghren lowered his flask. "So what does that mean, anyway?"

"It means I had way too much to deal with in the last five minutes and that I'm not looking forward to the next five."

Oghren considered that. "Oy," he said, and after a short pause fired a quick stream of dwarvish. "Like my words better, but whatever sodding works for you. Hmmph. With pretty boy down and missy lyrium-addled I guess you're in charge."

"Lyrium-addled?"

He actually looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, uh…I gave her a pinch of dust and let her wash it down with the good stuff." He patted his flask. "And then Red gave her a draught before I could stop her. And then – well, you can see. Heh, you felt it!" He shrugged. "Oh, well. Nothing we can do about it now. Come on; you and Red need to meet Kardol."

"Oy."

* * *

><p>I resisted the urge to salute Alistair and Neria as I gave them my report. "Best as I can figure we're about an hour's walk from the bridges to Bownammar. Kardol's agreed to resupply, reequip, and repair us, and let us stay here until we're ready to move. He also offered to let Airson and Safa come with us; they, uh, volunteered for the honor. And he wants to talk to you when you feel up to it." Not that that was going to happen anytime soon.<p>

Alistair nodded and coughed up something thick and bloody. We'd dragged him in on a stretcher and set him up in the cavern the Legion uses as an infirmary. He's pale, his eyes are sunken, and he's got a puckered scar in his chest that makes the one I got look like a bad pimple.

Neria groaned and kept her head on her arms which in turn were resting on Cullen. She'd been able to walk, but only with help. Too much lyrium had made her silly drunk, she'd also been flaring off magic the whole way here, and now she's really hung over. She looked just as bad as Alistair, but probably felt worse if the bloodshot eyes and obviously pounding head was any indication.

Wynne just watched with dull eyes from her cot. She's hovering somewhere between pale and ashen and, for the first time since I've met her, actually looks and sounds old. As I spoke she closed her eyes and rolled her head aside. I felt the tiniest surge of panic, but Neria was sitting right next to her, and I could see Wynne's chest rising and falling.

Morrigan was sitting quietly, watching and listening. She gave me a silent nod

* * *

><p>Sorry about cutting off there. We've got a little cave to call our own until we're ready to move out. Not much to it; just some pallets, a small, low table, and a glowstone, but for now it's a place we can sit and rest and not worry about anything except our ass cheeks falling asleep from sitting on the stone.<p>

Oghren came strolling in looking thoroughly satisfied with himself, saw me, and plopped down on a spare cot. "Don't you ever sleep, shaper?" He took a hit off his flask.

I looked around the room. Sten was running his chainsaw, Zevran was breathing silently, and Leliana was curled up under a blanket. All three were following orders. "Not my turn." I waved off the offered flask. "But what about you? Didn't I tell you to get some sleep?"

"Yeah, but you need it more."

I winced at that. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Rutting right I am." He took another hit and stood up. "Got a bit to talk?"

I took a look at the others. We're at the point where we can sleep through just about anything but figured the quieter it was in there the better. Although I doubted any talking Oghren or I did would overpower the snoring. Still, I ignored my knees and my shoulder and pushed myself up. "Lead on."

Out of our cave, down a short corridor, past a group of legionnaires ("Atrast vala!"), into another cave ("Hey!" "Sorry!" "Heh! Don't mind me." "Out!") then right back out, and finally into a large cavern that looked almost exactly like the one from the Warden compound. Except for the handful of dwarves going at each other. I'm pretty sure they were sparring.

"What's wrong, shaper?"

"I'm actually feeling a little homesick. For Orzammar." Weird, but not really. Anyway…. "So what's up?"

Oghren took a moment to watch the sparring. Probably so he could take a long drink. "Just wanted to say good work these last couple wakings."

I gave him a tired, embarrassed smile. "Thanks."

"Not at all. But watching you stand up like that got me to wondering why missy's in charge and you're not."

"I'm…not a Warden."

Oghren ignored my words. "See, missy's a smart girl, and you're teaching her – well, the big guy is too, but she _really _listens to you - you're teaching her how to be the boss. And I don't got a single sodding problem with that. Not as long as she keeps being as smart as she is."

"Where are you going with this?"

Oghren took a drink and thought what looked like deep thoughts. "Absolutely nowhere," he finally answered. "Missy's in charge, and you've got her back, I'm good with that. I guess I just wanted to say I'm happy you're here to keep her straight. Asschabs! Keep us all straight. And to stand up if we need you." He offered me the flask.

"No thanks."

"Also wanted to tell you the Legionnaires said you did good. Airson's a bit chaffed at you, but that cause he's not used to someone else giving the orders. But he said you did good, too." Another hit and a laugh. "They won't tell you that to your face what with you not being a Warden, but I guess I can pass the word."

"Uh, thanks."

Oghren snickered. "Don't say that until you know what else they said about you."

"Do I want to know?"

"Might as well. Ingerd said you're too focused."

Whoa. Ingerd talked?

Leliana's voice whispered from right behind me. "Ingerd talked?"

When my heart started beating again I gave the bard a sour stare. "How long have you been there?"

"Only but a moment."

"Don't let her yank you; she's been here the whole time." Oghren offered Red his flask.

"Thank you, but no. Perhaps another time."

"Suit yourself." Drink.

Leliana asked the question again. "Ingerd talked?"

"She didn't give a sodding speech. All she said was 'Too focused'."

I opened my mouth but Leliana was quicker.

"'Too focused.' Yes, I can see that."

"What does that mean anyway?"

"It means," Oghren said, "you need to fight like a horny bronto. You know: kinda sloppy and all over the place." He waggled his eyebrows at Leliana. "And the quality of the ladies hanging around should make that pretty easy."

Leliana rolled her eyes.

Time to defend myself. "Look, I think I'm doing pretty good out there."

"And your skills have come far since we met," Leliana chimed in.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. But you have far to go."

"No complaints from me," Oghren added. "You think smart and fight smart." He rubbed his chin. "Hmm. Maybe a little too smart."

"I'm supposed to fight smart; I'm a-" I cut myself off.

"You're a what? A nughumper?"

I didn't want to say it but did anyway. "I'm a…meatshield."

Leliana coughed. I've explained the term to her.

"Meatshield?"

"The guy who…stands in front of other people-" I elbowed the chuckling Leliana. "-and takes the beating to keep them safe long enough for them to turn the bad guys into little chunky bits."

"Meatshield. Heh, I like that." Oghren barked. Seriously, that's what it sounded like. "Chunky bits!" He took a swig. "But like I said: I think you fight too smart. Guess it works for you, but sometimes you need to forget smart and just be an angry stack of meat."

"I'm not sure I like where this going."

The dwarf slapped me on the hip. "You will."

* * *

><p><em>AN: a filler chapter here, certainly, and I'm not particularly happy with it (although _**Beta Reader**_ did a lot to help me get it to the current state). Can't say why that is, exactly, but it just isn't doing it for me even though I think what's here needed to be included._

**New Zealand 5:** _thanks much!_ MINOR SPOILER: _expect Shale to show up._

**Gillian Grayson:** _Sten's got pretty much a one-track mind when it comes to combating the Blight. Or anything else. If he sees an opportunity to confront an enemy he'll take it._

**SnowHelm, Her Eternal Grimoire, AD Lewis:** _I'm glad you (and everybody else, I'm hoping) liked the scene with the Archdemon's cameo. What I wrote just felt right, although looking back I'm thinking I should have tried to get a bigger 'punch' from the Archdemon._

**Xaiael:** _thank you!_

**AgoTheTiny:** _daww!_


	69. Final Push

"…so the little shit wants to teach me how to be a berserker."

Alistair cleared his throat, started to speak, and coughed softly. His color's back but he's still feeling a little rough, and keeps coughing up bloody stuff.

"Berserker?" Wynne asked. She's upgraded to pale and wrung out and the spark is back in her eyes. But there's a quaver in her voice that hasn't been there up to now.

Neria and Morrigan have been working on both of them, and they're apparently out of danger. Doesn't mean they're good to go; Alistair needs at least another night or whatever of rest and Wynne will need at least a couple of days.

Alistair got his throat clear. "Like Oghren when he starts laughing and just runs into…"

Wynne had fixed him with the stare. "I know what a berserker is, young man. I just can't see Jeff as one. Can you?" She turned back to me and put on an apologetic smile and spoke softly. "And I certainly do not intend any offense by this." Back to Alistair with a sharp tone. "So can you?"

Alistair looked confused at the question. "Can I what?"

"See Jeff as a berserker?"

"Just for the record: _I_ can't see myself as a berserker."

"Well," Alistair quipped, "that settles that." He nodded at the chessboard. "Now, back-"

Wynne waved him off and kept her tired eyes on me. "What do you see yourself as?"

I shrugged. "Just another meatshield."

"You're more than that, you know."

Head bob. "Well, I'm the shaper, and, sometimes, the cook, and-"

"And the battle planner," Alistair interrupted.

I thought about that for a second. "Okay, I can see that."

Alistair studied me for a few seconds. "You don't- No. Really. If you weren't doing that I'd – we'd – be just running randomly all over the place."

"It's just good tactics and smart thinking. Anybody can do that."

"But you do it better than any of us. Even Sten listens to you." Alistair suddenly looked embarrassed. "When we go into a battle, well, knowing you've…planned it…well, that makes me confident – a lot more confident – that we'll come out alive."

Wynne nodded quietly. "This is true."

"And I know this sounds-"

"Alistair? Oh. Hello, Jeffrey." Neria stuck her head in the clinic. She looks good. Sleep and some food did wonders for her. Actually, it did wonders for us all. "Alistair, could I speak to you for a moment?"

Alistair gave her a small smile. "Certainly." With my not-really-needed help he stood and headed out to the hallway. The two Wardens disappeared, although I could hear some coughing from Alistair.

I nodded at the chessboard and eased myself down. "Want me to take over for Alistair?"

Wynne shook her head. "We have a bet on the game."

I examined the board for an instant; it looked like Wynne would be collecting. What she'd be collecting I have no idea. "No problem. How-"

"You do know that they both look up to you?"

I'd been about to ask Wynne how she was doing, but her question threw me. I shook my head to reset it. "What?"

"Alistair sees you as a mentor. I hesitate to put it this way, but I think in some ways you've replaced Duncan for him."

Totally not my intention. "Oookay."

"And you've set Neria on course to become the leader she needs to be. She has more to learn, but you've certainly been a source of inspiration to her."

Shrug. "Well, I'm just doing what I have to do." Although, to be perfectly honest, I'm wondering how Neria would have handled things without me here. Would things have gone the way they're 'supposed' to? Would they have even made it this far? No use speculating; those answers are a few universes over.

Wynne considered the chessboard as she spoke. "'Doing what you have to do' is keeping our Wardens focused and motivated." She looked up and gave me a smile. "And it kept me alive. I believe I owe you some thanks."

I returned the smile. "You're very welcome."

Wynne closed her eyes for a long moment. "Keep 'doing what you have to do.' And watch out for the Wardens."

"That's what I'm here for."

"I know. Now give me a moment to rest before Alistair returns."

* * *

><p>Neria looked up from the low table we were standing, squatting, and sitting around. "Any questions? Anybody?"<p>

I took a last look at the map. The planned movement's gonna take us to the bridges to Bownammar. Kardol's giving us an escort to that point and will step up patrols in the area for a while to hopefully keep a clear path for our return. We're gonna look for Branka's marks before we cross because once we do cross we're on our own again, although Kardol's promised to take a message back to Orzammar if we take too long. Although the definition of 'too long' is pretty loose right now. A nice, simple plan. Not too much can go wrong, or at least really wrong.

Oh, yeah. Safa and Airson were coming with us, which explains the question he asked. "So who's the boss if you go down, little miss?"

Neria nodded at her fellow Warden and ignored his slight head shake. "Alistair."

The fellow Warden looked a lot nervous at that.

"And if he goes down?"

There was no hesitation when she answered. "Jeffrey."

Airson's eyes flicked down to me. "The shaper?"

"And if he's too hurt, then Sten."

"And where do I fall in?"

Neria glanced around the table then back to Airson. "After Leliana."

"Although by then," the bard said, "I doubt it will matter who is in charge."

Airson's sideburns were rippling. "You know I lead squads down here."

"But you don't know us," Neria answered him softly but firmly. "So if you don't like it you don't have to come with us."

Airson considered that for a moment. "Right." He stood up and collected his gear. "You lot have got some stones to be coming down here. Especially you, little miss. But I don't think I can work with you. Ancestors watch over you, good luck, and all that." He turned and just walked out.

All eyes went to Safa.

Her eyes glared back at us but, like every other time I'd heard her speak, her voice was quiet and calm. "I'm the new girl. I don't have any problem taking orders."

Neria gave the dwarven woman a smile and got a nod back. "Okay. Any other questions?"

"Warden, what are your plans should we encounter the Archdemon?"

That raised the tension. Neria and Alistair looked seriously at each other with a 'that's a good question but we'd rather not answer it' expression.

Sten continued. "If we find the Archdemon alone we should confront it. That was how we encountered it before." He hesitated for an instant. "It is a…powerful creature, but it may be vulnerable without darkspawn to protect it." Another hesitation. "I am reluctant to describe it as such, but I also found it to be a magnificent creature. However, I will not waver if ordered to attack it."

Neria found her voice. "But if we order you to _not_ attack it…?"

Sten hesitated even longer this time. "If the Archdemon is alone, and you have not been overly affected by its presence, it would be foolish to not confront it."

The Wardens looked back and forth at each other. I know Neria had a calm talk with Sten a while back but I wasn't privy to the conversation. Whatever'd been said stayed in private but Neria's not angry with Sten any more. Or at least she's not showing it. But at the moment neither Warden was saying anything.

I spoke up. "That didn't answer the question."

Sten transferred his impassiveness to me for a moment then turned back to Neria. "I still believe we should confront the Archdemon if doing so would not be an excessive risk, but I will abide by your command."

The Wardens looked at each other then leaned in and had a quick whispered conversation.

"Okay, Sten," Neria finally said. "We'll…make that…decision when the time comes. But remember: we're looking for Branka, not the Archdemon."

Sten inclined his head. "I understand, and will comply."

"Thank you, Sten."

"You are welcome."

* * *

><p>I shortened the final bridge in my head and finished the song. "No one knows what it's like,<p>

To be the sad man;

To be the bad man,

Behind blue eyes."

Leliana regarded me over steepled fingers. I regarded her back.

"Sad or angry, I do not know which," she finally said.

"Both, maybe."

"It was not about you, was it?"

I laughed. "I hope not!"

We sat quietly for a moment. Leliana hummed softly.

"Do you know something…happier?"

I know a lot of songs, but trying to sort out those that absolutely need a guitar solo and/or have a lot of modern concepts in them kind of restricts my choices. But what's a multiversal theme? Sadness. Loss. Heartache. Love. Cheeseburgers. Big butts. Okay, maybe not cheeseburgers.

"Jeffrey?"

"I think I have something." I closed my eyes and gave Leliana a beat to play. _Ba-da-dum bump bump._ When she got it I found the rhythm and started singing. "When I wake up.

Well I know I'm gonna be;

I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next you…."

* * *

><p>The Legionnaires heard the singing and came drifting in, so Leliana started an impromptu concert. I got me and my so-so at best singing voice out of the way and let her take center stage.<p>

"She has a lovely voice, doesn't she?" Alistair sounded kind of wistful.

"Ah, she does, mio amico. Almost as lovely as heroof." Zevran gave Alistair a dirty look. "That was most uncalled for."

Alistair narrowed his eyes at the elf. "I think it-"

The dwarves erupted in a ripple of good-natured laughter. Zevran chuckled himself and I joined in with a snicker.

Alistair just looked confused.

"Ah, but you must listen to _all_ the words."

"…to give me a lesson on my instrument; I thanked him for nothing and bid him be gone, for my little fiddle should not be played on."***

Another round of laughter.

"Wait. Is she singing about- Oh, Maker!" Alistair started to noticeably flush even in the dim light.

Zevran turned to me. "I believe our amico needs some lessons in the arti physique. Perhaps when we have returned from this trista place we should-"

Alistair's face hardened up. "Zevran. No."

I was thinking that getting laid would probably do us both some good, but only came back with a tired, "Why don't we wait until we're back in Orzammar to worry about that?"

"…he offered me jewels and a great store of gold, but I would not mortgage my little freehold."

Laughter.

Alistair grumbled something and turned away. I wanted to listen to Leliana, but gave Zevran a "Later" and went after Alistair. I didn't have to try hard to catch him. "You okay?"

Alistair nodded, but didn't really mean it. "I'm just wondering…."

"…I mustered my spirits and became bold, and forced my lieutenant to quit his strong hold."

More laughter, and somebody shouted something in dwarvish that set off a roar of guffaws.

"Never mind," Alistair said.

I leaned in and whispered, "Is this about the Archdemon?"

"No." Alistair looked frustrated. He looked around and answered quietly, "Well, a little. I've been wondering if-" He stopped and looked around. "If living like this means...I have to give up other things I want."

That confused me. "I…don't understand what you're saying."

Alistair looked around again. "You found me in the Fade, so you know. And thank you for not blabbing that to everyone."

"You're welcome, and are you talking about…what? Getting married?"

"Just…maybe…finding a woman. To be with. Not _that _way, but…."

"Alistair, I don't think you'll have any problem with that."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

"Listen. All you need is some confidence. I mean, you're a good looking man, and you've got this…dorky charm about you that women just love."

"'Dorky'?"

"You know if you were in my country there'd be women falling over themselves for you."

"You're just having me on."

"Would I do that to you? Don't answer that. But I'm serious about the women; I know a couple who'd probably pour honey all over you and lick it right off."

"Oh, Maker!"

"And they'd let you return the favor."

"I do not need to hear this."

"I think you do."

Alistair and I both jumped at Morrigan's words.

The witch unmelded from the shadows she hadn't been trying that hard to hide in. "You continually abase yourself. Doing so makes you appear more foolish than you are."

"Here now-" Alistair started.

"But remember this: I found you to be worth rescuing." Morrigan flicked her golden eyes at us both but focused on Alistair as she continued speaking. "In many ways you _are_ a fool, but you are competent, and admittedly, you are…not…unpleasant…to look upon." Her lips tightened and she scowled. "But tell any of the others what I have said here…." She turned away and strode quickly out of sight.

Alistair turned to me. "Did she mean that?"

"Yeah, she'll turn our brains into pudding." Hmm. Better not let her see this page.

Alistair gave me a friendly punch in the arm. "No. I mean about me being…what she said."

I thought about that for a minute. "You know, Morrigan's a lot of things, but she says what she means."

"This is true."

"And coming from her that's high praise."

Alistair nodded. "High praise indeed."

* * *

><p>Not much time to update right now.<p>

We figured out where Branka probably crossed into Bownammar and got a good-sized Legion escort to take us that far. We moved out a couple hours ago and are making steady time. Looks like we're gonna link up with Branka's path from this side.

Legion morale is pretty good, but they're used to doing this sort of thing. Our attitude is more resigned. Guess we'll see what happens.

* * *

><p>"Maker, guide our hands."<p>

Leliana released and I set my own arrow flying an instant later. We were providing support to the Legionnaires who were grinding their way across the bridge. There were a few Legion crossbowmen (crossbowdwarves?) with us, and our fire kept the darkspawn mages and archers suppressed.

Leliana had found a stack of arrows somewhere, but she was firing slowly. I was shooting as fast as I could (which isn't that fast when using a crossbow) but have plenty of ammo.

The rest of the group was just watching and waiting more or less impatiently; both Sten and Oghren were grumbling about not being in on the action. Personally I could have gone with another day off, but I kept loading and firing.

"There's the signal," Neria called, and started a role call.

I took one last shot, had Zevran grab my crossbow, slipped on my shield, and drew my sword. "Ready."

Everybody else was, too.

"Let's go," Neria said without much enthusiasm.

The dwarven crossbowmen continued their firing as we moved out and Kardol joined us as we trotted across the bridge. He started yelling something to Neria, but I only caught the occasional word. "Luck…ancestors help you…stone [or maybe 'stones']…come back through." And that was it.

The Legion's main body had pushed across the bridge and left us some space to get through on either flank.

"Talk to us, Oghren!" I yelled.

"Keep it in your pants!"

We'd found Branka's mark on the near side of the bridge. The question was 'Which way did she go after crossing it?' Oghren was supposed to keeping an eye out for another mark after we crossed, but the battle was making that job understandably difficult. But the last thing we wanted to do was just stand around waiting for Oghren to find a mark.

"Don't have time for that! Around to the left!"

Oghren yelled something back but Sten's shouted assent drowned him out. Alistair veered off with me and I hoped Safa came along with him. We jogged through the opening the Legionnaires had purchased for us and made a hard right into the darkspawn flank. Fire and ice and other things hissed past us from behind as the Legion closed its ranks, and then we got the next signal.

"Keep moving!" Neria yelled. "Aah!"

A fireball exploded in the darkspawn flank. That was our cue; we started a sideways retreat from the battle. Darkspawn began following us, but those that turned away from the Legion were quickly cut down. Those that didn't follow us had other problems.

Oghren spun around from the darkspawn he'd just killed. "Shaper, you sure about this?"

"No, but we can't-" I bounced a low, fast-moving thing with too many claws and teeth off my shield. Alistair was kind enough to stab it for me. "We can't stand around here all day!"

"Ah! Sod it!"

We kept sliding away from the main fight, but so did the darkspawn. Attracted to the Wardens, I guess, but that gave the Legion a chance to push forward towards the huge gate the monsters were coming out of. We helped as best we could; the mages shot bolts of energy and Zevran used my crossbow, but our objective was to get clear of the area and get back on Branka's trail.

And we did. The last glimpse we got of the Legion was as they were advancing towards the Bownammar gate and bottling up the darkspawn in the chokepoint. I could see a few dwarves down among the darkspawn corpses; I shot some silent thanks towards them then turned and paid attention to our front. We half-walked and ran between Bownammar's walls and the canyon, moved past another, smaller, but closed gate, and hit the end of the worked road.

"Hah!" Oghren shouted. "Right there!" He sprinted ahead of us and jabbed at the wall with his axe and disappeared into the stone. "Hah!" echoed out of the concealed opening and the dwarf stuck his head back out. "She did go this way! Come on, you sods or I'll make you watch my happy dance!"

Alistair bumped me. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess." And believe me, it was.

* * *

><p>Wrote that (and this) after getting into Bownammar proper. It's similar to Orzammar in that everything's carved from stone and lit with the glow of lava and stones, but it has a more martial feel to it. Wide open streets that run straight from gates to barracks. Bridges that can be (and have been) barricaded andor collapsed. Abandoned barracks right next to occupied tombs.

Well, mostly abandoned. Branka's path has us skirting around the edge of the city and mostly through those tombs and barracks and other buildings. There's a lot of darkspawn running around, although they're mostly moving around the center of the city. Still, we came around a corner as we entered the city and ran into a couple darkspawn hauling weapons. (I feel kinda bad about us having to kill the bronto they were using.) The Wardens pointed us at another door; we tried going in right as a handful of darkspawn tried coming out. No worries, but we're taking advantage of being on the edge of the city to rest for a bit.

Well, one worry.

"Hey, shaper. Since you're writing all this down look what the comely elf lass helped me find." Oghren held up a pair of heavy armored boots.

"For the last time, mio amico-"

"You ain't my amigo until you get me some sea spiders to eat!" Oghren plopped down with a _clank._ "Help me get these on."

I gave him a _really?_ look. "What makes you think I'll help?"

Oghren shrugged. "Nobody else will. Now get to work!"

* * *

><p>Gorram fucking spiders.<p>

* * *

><p>If it wasn't for the Wardens I don't know how we'd be getting along in here. They're sensing the darkspawn concentrations before they can sense us, so we're able to set up a quick ambush or pull them into an ambush before we can get our asses handed to us. And since we're trying to stay in tight places we're able to counteract the darkspawn numerical advantage. Usually.<p>

We hit a dozen or so darkspawn with a clean pull, but the leader of the group was absolutely the biggest one any of us has seen outside of an ogre. Still, it wouldn't have been so bad except a couple of those damn elf-derived darkspawn came up behind us and tore into the back rank.

It was Oghren's turn to cover the back (although after a couple close calls I think either Sten or I should be back there, too). I heard him yell, "Watch out, missy!" and two screams erupted: one from the shrieks and one from Neria. That distracted me long enough to get my sword arm cut open just below the elbow; I dropped my sword, dealt with the pain, and used my shield to shove the bad guys around. At one point the big darkspawn took a shot at me; its sword actually cut a lovely notch in my shield.

I'm okay, though, and so is Neria, although she has a parallel set of scars running across her back now. I've got a nice new one on my forearm, and Zevran picked up a fine one down his side and across one of his cheeks. Fortunately for his looks (and unfortunately for the rest of us) it was an ass cheek. Damn elf's milking it for all the sympathy he can get (not much) and showing it off to anyone who'll look (so far just Safa).

"This," Sten stated flatly while the healing was going on, "is unusual," His words had that undertone that means 'check this out!'

Neria's pained voice called out, "It's not another Warden, is it?"

"I do not believe so. But I was speaking of the weapon this darkspawn was carrying."

"This _is_ unusual," Alistair said. "Here, let me…." He picked up and displayed a longsword. It's a bit shorter than mine but just as martial in its own way. There's no crossguard; where that should be is a block of polished wood carved to embrace the junction of hilt and blade. A matching wood carving covers the pommel. The hilt is bare and the single-edged blade delicately curves to a single point. "It's lighter than it looks."

"That is a dar mison [sp]," Zevran announced, "but I don't recognize the pattern on the blade." The metal is dark gray and is even more darkly etched in some way; the design is reminiscent of Celtic knotwork. And it's completely unblemished by rust or tarnish, although the wood looks stained. "It is a lovely weapon-"

"It is," Sten agreed.

"-but it's a shame to see it used by such a creature." He held out a hand. "If I may…?"

Alistair wiped down the weapon with a rag and a generous helping of Oghren's firewater. Zevran took a moment to wrap the blade in a blanket and tied it to his pack while the rest of us poked around. We didn't find anything else of interest but something's been tickling the back of my brain ever since.

Oh, well. If I figure it out by then maybe we can swing back by on the way out.

* * *

><p>"Do you smell that?" Zevran asked from the back rank.<p>

"I can smell nothing but dwarf and darkspawn," Morrigan snapped.

"Sod off, witch," Safa replied. No heat at all to it, but she sounded sincere.

"I'm serious," Zevran protested.

I couldn't smell anything but darkspawn and dust and probably dwarf, but took Zevran at his word. "What is it?"

Zevran looked confused. "Charcoal, I believe."

Ding. I took off my helmet and took a careful breath. I couldn't smell anything but darkspawn and dwarves and myself, but ran with it. "Okay, now I smell it. Alistair, Neria: any darkspawn nearby?"

They considered the answer for a moment and pointed roughly to our two o'clock. "But just barely," Neria said. "Are you sure? I don't smell anything different."

"It's barely there," I answered, "but compared to everything else it smells fresh." My helmet went back on. "Let's get a little closer."

* * *

><p>The entire Legion could have been partying outside the workshop and the darkspawn wouldn't've heard them. But, there were two or three dozen of them, so at least one of them would have looked up and seen us. But the good news was that they were working, mostly unarmed, and definitely not expecting us. Neria took an arrow through her leg, but that was it for our serious injuries. (I can't believe I just wrote that.) Even Zevran came through unscathed. Neria was up and ready to go in about ten minutes, but there was an untainted spring so we'd decided to take a break. Sten had other plans, though.<p>

He held out a large prybar. "Assist me," he said, and pulled me to my feet.

He led me to one of the forges; we levered it over and onto a pile of bar stock.

"Good idea."

Sten gave me a brief incline of his head, and we (along with everybody else) continued wrecking the place. Don't know how much good it'll do in the long run, but we had some fun doing it.

What's the rule?

'Enjoy the little things.'

* * *

><p>Skeletons came swarming at us like Ray Harryhausen was in charge but blew apart as they walked into our range. The little tears in the Veil that clung to them <em>popped<em> soundlessly away as the skeletons went down. And then a darkspawn mage, and another, and another, appeared and took their best shots.

We dodged an incoming fireball and scattered into multiple melees. I ended up behind Safa and in front of Morrigan. I shield-checked one skeleton away from the mage and collided with another. It opened its mouth in a silent hiss but the bones were too brittle to back up the attitude.

Safa basically ran through a skeleton protecting a darkspawn mage. It collapsed on itself as she took its legs out, but she kept going, shrugged off a ball of gooey energy, and jabbed the mage in the gut with the end of her axe then kicked it in the shin as it doubled over. Her shield snapped up and the edge caught the mage in the face as the axe came around and _crunched_ the back of the monster's head. Safa took a quick step back and scanned the area; there were no immediate threats so she stayed in front of me.

"And that's how you take down an emissary, shaper." Despite the activity her voice was as quiet and calm as it always was. I could barely hear her through our helmets.

I gave her an unseen grin as I killed the skeleton she'd disabled. "Safa, you are a busty little bow-legged barrel-chested badass." Beat. "Yes, that's a compliment."

The dwarf's helmet bobbed. "I appreciate the sentiment."

* * *

><p>I'm hot, sweaty, sticky, overheated, and yet since I heard the words I've been shivering.<p>

"First day they come and they catch everyone."

Alistair's hand shot up and we froze in place.

"Everyone heard that, right?"

"I heard it," Sten said.

"From where is it coming?" Leliana turned a slow circle. "Hello?"

"Second day we're beat and some ate for meat."

Oghren grumbled from his scrounged helmet. "Well that's just creepy."

"It sounds like a woman." Wynne's been pacing herself but still looks and sounds tired.

"Well it ain't Branka!"

"Who is there?" Leliana called again.

"Fifth day they return and it's another girl's turn."

"We won't hurt you!" Wynne called. "Please, come out; let us help you."

"Oghren, are we still on Branka's trail?"

"Solid as stone, missy."

"Sixth day her screams we hear in our dreams."

"We don't understand," Alistair called softly. "What does that mean?"

I'd finally worked some wet into my mouth. This caught me surprise; I've been paying too much attention to our immediate problems to even think about what's coming up. "It means we're about to find out how darkspawn breed."

* * *

><p><em>AN: sorry about the very late update but I had an absolutely insane couple of weeks at work. And not in a good way. As a result of that, an update to _**Stargate: Origins**_, a desire to make sure the chapters flowed together well, and some writer's block, I'm actually quite a bit behind schedule on my writing. I do, however, plan to reward your patience with some quick updates for next couple of chapters._

_***Leliana is singing "My Thing Is My Own," a traditional folk song filled with some wonderful double entendres. It's definitely worth looking up if you have the time._

**Snowhelm & Ravus:** _thanks for the kind words and frequent reviews. As I've said before, I enjoy writing the characterization scenes and dialogue, but I have a tendency to bog down while exploring details rather than keep the story moving. I've set aside some scenes totaling about a fourth of the word count for the last couple of chapters, but still feel things are dragging too much._

**MMMMMMMA:** _glad you're enjoying the story. _MINOR SPOILER:_ The fade demon has the traditional agenda of all demons, but Jeff's proving to be a tough nut to crack._

**Ann, So you want to be an Author, & Papercut Peterson:** _thank you!_ **MoN** _has been an ongoing, turned-into-an-epic project that I'm still enjoying. It's been over a year since I've started writing it and I'm still feeling motivated to get to the finish. Alternately, I'm grinding through to the bitter end!_

**InsidiousAgent: **_even in medieval and ancient times training soldiers has been about teaching the troops to just react rather than think too much about what they're doing. Modern warfare has changed things mostly regarding the skills involved. But that's a good point you brought up about Jeff's skills not matching his profession (at least from a medieval versus modern viewpoint). I'd actually drafted a scene regarding that but it got lost in the shuffle early on. I might have to go back and flesh it out and update an earlier chapter._

MINOR SPOILER: _if by Jeff's origins you mean how and why he was brought to the DA verse I have a chunk of head canon explaining that. Jeff might be able to find some answers but that's going to mean getting_ [REDACTED / MAJOR SPOILER].

**Reader000x151:** _I hope this chapter, along with some clues sprinkled in others, answered the question regarding Jeff's specialization._

**New Zealand 5:** MINOR SPOILER: _I do plan to bring Shale on board._


	70. Paragon Interrupt

"Is that what I'm feeling ahead of us?" Neria asked.

"It's gotta be," I answered.

"Seventh day she grew as in her mouth they spew."

"I agree with Ohgren: this is creepy," Alistair said. "And there is something ahead."

"Oghren?" Neria asked.

"Pretty boy's right-"

"Did Branka come this way?" Neria snapped.

"Haven't seen a mark in a while, but there's no other way to go." Oghren looked into the darkness. "Show yourself, you creepy sod!"

"Alistair, Jeff: point."

_Crap._

"You too, Safa."

But we rearranged ourselves with the tanks in front and the other heavies in the back. Good idea considering the passage; there wasn't much room for Oghren and Sten to do their thing.

"Alistair," I said, "this is gonna be nasty."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything else with the darkspawn has been. Why not this?"

"I see what you mean. But…."

"But what?"

"I don't know."

"Eighth day we hated as she is violated."

"I could slip ahead and try to find our hidden poeta."

"No," Neria snapped. "We stay together."

"As you wish."

"Go!" Neria hissed.

We moved out.

"Ninth day she grins and devours her kin."

* * *

><p>It's a large, fleshy, reddish <em>thing <em>the size of a bean-bag chair that looks like it's made of raw meat. An assortment of raw meat. Plus veins. Oozing veins. Also made of raw meat. Spoiled raw meat. Cause it stinks more than everything else stinks. Including us.

"Third day the men are all gnawed on again."

And it twitched when we got close.

"Darkspawn. I'm certain of it," Alistair said.

"And what were you hoping to find?" Morrigan asked.

"I meant inside it. It's like…."

"Two separate darkspawn?" I finished.

Alistair gave me a strange look. "How do you know?"

I poked my sword at a thick cord of tendon, gristle, more veins, and less identifiable stuff. "Cause this runs into it. And it comes from somewhere else."

"But it is darkspawn?" Sten asked.

"I said I was certain."

"Then stand aside."

Sten raised his greatsword and slashed down. The pod split open and a clear, pink-tinted fluid splashed out. There was swearing and jumping as it splashed across the floor, but what I noticed was that it smelled _good._ Seriously. The smell was warm and salty, like a fresh ocean breeze. It gave me a few seconds to relax and remember more pleasant situations before the stink we'd become far too much accustomed to rolled over us again.

And then the mostly-formed genlock fell out.

The creature was pale and looked like a misshapen dwarf. The head and hands and feet were too large, the body and limbs too short. It flailed at its eyes while it coughed out more fluid.

"Dear sweet Andraste!" "Rutting shudir!" "Maker's breath!"

At our voices the incomplete darkspawn stopped moving and looked around at us. It coughed again and let out a wheezing, squeaking hiss that lasted for two seconds before Sten stabbed it.

"Fourth day we wait and fear for our fate."

We found more pods as we moved on. Everything from softball sized on up. We stabbed every one of them without letting anything else out.

* * *

><p>A figure appeared in front of us, pawing at the growth, only half-concealed by the shadows. "Now she does feast as she's become the beast."<p>

I sensed Alistair and Safa tensing up. I thumped his shield. "Relax; she's not a threat."

"By the stone! I think that's Hespith!"

"First day-" The dwarven woman with gray skin and sunken eyes stopped her chant at Oghren's words and stared in his rough direction as if she were tasting them. "I know that name from before; no one belongs to it anymore." The eyes darted back and forth. "Humans? And others? Sister and brother?" She twitched, and suddenly pulled at a scrap of cloth in a vain attempt to cover herself. "Feeding time brings familiar things." Her head rolled around then drooped. "I would think you are dreams but I hear no screams."

"By the Maker!" Leliana said quietly. "What's happened to her?"

Alistair had knelt and held an ignored hand out to Hespith. "She's Tainted, but…not completely. Not yet."

Neria pushed up behind us. "We're not dreams. We're…. Can…. We can help. We can help you." But I don't think she believed her own words; not with the way her voice was shaking.

Oghren answered softly. "I think she's beyond help, missy. Looks like she's been eating darkspawn flesh. And for too sodding long."

Hespith looked up at Oghren's words. Her eyes were mottled red around pupils of milky blue. "They beat us, and feed us, because they need us."

"Mad as a rutting duster," Safa said quietly.

"Embrace the madness to lose the sadness. Upon every wake a bit more they take." Hespith suddenly focused on a patch of skin on her leg and scratched across it. She moaned as she dug bloody channels across the gray patch.

"Feed you? Need you?" Neria asked softly but shakily.

Hespith touched her fresh wounds and sighed. "They take us to violate; our bodies they desecrate."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't think you wanna know," I said quietly.

Hespith ignored us. "They took Laryn before me, and her change I could see, and I was…glad it was not me."

"What change? What did they- Who did it to you?"

Hespith backed into the shadows and cast about as if she were looking for something. "Branka, my lover, I can't forgive her."

"Branka?" Oghren asked. "Branka's still alive?"

"I was her captain, yet I let it happen."

"Hespith," Neria asked, "what happened?"

"They were turned into breeders," I said.

I don't know if anyone paid attention to my words because Hespith flinched away as I finished.

"I've learned that soon it's my turn!" Hespith spun about and disappeared into the growths. We tracked her by sounds that suddenly faded.

"There!" Safa pointed and hacked through some tendons. There was a coffin pulled out from the wall; there was a hole or maybe a crawlspace behind it. "Sod it, she's gone." She couldn't risk a closer look without crawling over and through pods and tendrils.

Neria looked scared and frustrated. "What did all that mean?"

"They were turned into breeders," I repeated.

"Darkspawn breeders?"

"Yes."

"But…how?"

"I don't know."

"It does not matter," Sten said. "What matters is that the one we just encountered knows of the Paragon." He pointed forward. "We should-"

Hespith was standing in a doorway and was visible only as a pale ghost in the shadows. "Turn and flee or become like me." She turned and ran into the next room.

"Oghren, no!" Neria snapped.

The dwarf had taken a few quick steps towards the door but stopped at Neria's shout. "She knows where Branka is!"

"We continue as a group," Sten cautioned.

"And we're still on her trail, right?"

"Aye. But what are we waiting for?"

Neria leaned into Alistair. "Do you sense…?"

Alistair's helmet nodded. "Something big right…that way. And around us, too." He indicated the growth.

"Jeffrey?" Neria was definitely on edge, but not panicked like she was with the Archdemon. "Jeffrey, what did you mean? About them being turned into breeders?"

I didn't fuck around with my answer. "We know darkspawn carry off women. And even though she's crazy you heard what she said. Somehow…some…why Branka's women are being turned into breeders." I worked my jaw for a moment and was glad Neria couldn't see my face. "On purpose, I think."

"That's…insane."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Neria considered that for a moment then swallowed hard. "Okay. Let's go."

"Wait," I said. "Let's be very careful."

The girl Warden narrowed her eyes at me. "Why? Are they dangerous? The breeders?"

I nodded. "Everything else is. These probably are, too." I took a chance. "But given the size…let's be completely ready."

Neria clenched her jaw and nodded then suddenly spun away. "Zevran, Morrigan, Leliana…."

* * *

><p>The pyramid of flesh was sagging in on itself with a score plus of nastily poisoned arrows and crossbow bolts sticking out of its head and torso. One arrow was buried deep in an eye or the nose but nobody wanted to get close enough to check the exact location. The rest of it wasn't dead yet but the head was, and that's what mattered. The tentacles were still waving and flopping about, but with a calm randomness rather than hateful control. And every so often there was a wet <em>slorp<em> as an incomplete genlock was pushed out of a pod.

"The broodmother is done; there'll be another one." Hespith was crouched on a ledge overlooking the cavern and mostly hidden in the shadows. She flinched as light from a mage staff caressed her.

"Please come down!" Neria called. "We can help you."

"Branka's will is to gain the Anvil. My fate I await."

"Please!"

"I was her captain yet I let it happen. Now I am betrayed and alone and punished by the stone." Hespith stood up and spread her arms; a dark figure silhouetted against the cave's darkness. "Do aim true."

I took the Renegade Interrupt. The shot wasn't difficult; even with the poor light I could see I'd hit Hespith almost dead center mass. I couldn't make out her face, but I heard her grunt a couple of times, then she fell out of sight.

The whole group spun around to stare at me. Alistair and Leliana looked shocked, Wynne looked angry, Morrigan looked understanding, and the rest were unreadable.

"What?" I said. "You saw her; you heard her: she said she was turning in to one of those things." I gestured at the broodmother. "Don't tell me that letting her live was a better choice." I wanted to feel angry and bitter, but instead felt regretfully satisfied. "If any of you think so now's the time to say it." Nobody else spoke. "Yeah, well, I didn't think so." I really needed a shotgun to rack, but settled for cocking the crossbow and slapping a bolt into place. I shoved the bow back into Zevran's hands and picked up what was left of my shield. "Neria?"

She was pale and shaken, but spoke up firmly. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

><p>Neria's off in a corner puking. Wynne's paler than I've ever seen her. Leliana's been quietly praying. Morrigan examined the broodmother so intently (from a distance) that the only thing giving away her emotions is the flickering of the light from her staff. Even all the guys are shook up.<p>

Safa showed the least reaction of us all. "Shaper." No shaking, no quavering, no hesitation. Just that same, calm, psychopathically Vulcan tone.

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

The blond dwarf took off her helmet and pulled her braid loose from where it's tucked against the back of her head. "Use that little crafting knife of yours and cut this off. Short as you can get it."

* * *

><p>"Jeffrey, may I borrow your little tool?"<p>

I knew exactly what Leliana was asking for. I dug out my knife. "Which one?"

"The grips."

I unfolded the pliers as I walked to where Morrigan, Zevran, and Leliana were busy with a cup and some vials. "This one?"

"Yes," Morrigan answered sharply. "But first drink this." She gave me a vial with a dark liquid in it. ""Tis but a healing draught."

I shrugged, took the vial, drank the potion, and sighed as a bit of relaxing warmth ran through me. Morrigan retrieved the vial, rinsed it, measured in some herbs, and added a clear liquid from a much larger vial.

"Not too much," Zevran cautioned.

"My hand is steady. Though it should not be."

"Put your gauntlet back on," Leliana instructed me.

I passed off my knife and complied. Morrigan held the neck of the vial with the pliers then gave me the knife.

"Steady," all three said at once, and then Morrigan summoned a gentle flame to warm the glass.

"Stop!" Zevran said just as the liquid started to steam and darken.

"Swirl it. Gently." Leliana instructed.

I did, and the tea darkened a bit more. "What are we doing?"

"Preparing a bardic poison," Leliana said simply.

"Spiced with Antivan lethality." Zevran sounded satisfied.

I looked at Morrigan. "Nothing to add?"

The witch shrugged. "Flavored with Flemeth's teachings. Now, if you would, decant that into this." She balanced a third, half-full vial against a rock and moved her hand away.

"Uh, how safe is this stuff?"

"Not at all, mio amico."

"Great." With the trio's encouragement I poured most of the liquid into the larger vial. A cloud of black formed in the liquid as the two mixed, but quickly thinned to a dark gray.

Leliana relaxed. "There. Safe enough to drink."

I still had a careful grip on the vial with the dregs. "_'Safe'_ to drink?"

Morrigan held up the vial and examined it. "It should now not liquefy one's mouth and throat before being swallowed."

"And yet," Zevran said firmly, "it should still bring a swift and reasonably comfortable death."

"The Maker," Leliana said, "frowns upon taking one's own life, but I am willing to risk his displeasure in this matter."

* * *

><p>"You knew."<p>

"By the Maker, I swear I didn't!"

"You did."

"Neria. Please. Believe me; I didn't know. Not about this."

"Did Duncan? When he…recruited me?" Neria snarled out the words. "Did he know?"

Alistair spoke hesitantly. "I would think so."

"So why didn't he tell me?"

"He didn't…. I don't know. But he didn't tell me, either!"

"But why?"

Alistair shook his head so hard I could hear it. "I don't know. He didn't tell me much, and now…."

"And now you don't know anything you need to know."

"I know-"

"Maker, Alistair! Jeffrey figured it out! Why didn't you?"

"Neria, I'm-"

"Just…just go away."

* * *

><p>"Poison?"<p>

Wynne held up the vial I'd given her. It's tightly plugged and there's a strip of cloth tightly tied vertically around it. You can see the dark, watery liquid, but there's no way you could open it accidentally.

"Poison," I confirmed. "Those three brewed it up."

Wynne looked over to where the trio was packing things up. Zevran caught her eye and gave the mage a small bow.

"I see." Wynne examined the vial again and nodded. "I understand their concerns, but perhaps someone else should have this. I doubt I'd even…survive …the…change." She paled as she spoke.

I shook my head. "Keep it. They, uh, made enough for everybody. At least…all the women."

Another nod. "I see. Prudent, I suppose. Although shouldn't Neria be…safe? I understand Grey Wardens have certain…immunities."

We looked over to where Neria was sitting and quietly talking to Cullen. She's avoided all us since encountering the broodmother. Can't say that I blame her.

"That's my understanding, too. But when that immunity runs out she'll-"

"Runs out?"

Oops. I looked around for Alistair; he was studiously avoiding Neria (while trying to look like he wasn't avoiding her) by talking about something with Sten. "It's supposed to be a secret, but Wardens will eventually succumb to the darkspawn Taint. They have about thirty years."

Wynne studied me for a moment. "You claim to be a simple soldier, but…." This was said flatly, but I could feel the accusation behind the words.

My answer was deceptively honest. "Before coming here I…studied the darkspawn and the Wardens, but never expected to end up using that knowledge like this. Oh, and I never claimed to be simple."

That brought a small smile to her face. "You still claim to be less than who you are. Don't give me that look; you know as well as I that's the truth."

I smiled back at her. "That's the truth for all of us."

"It certainly is."

* * *

><p>"We can't sit here forever you know."<p>

Neria didn't look up from where she was leaning against Cullen. "Why not?"

"Because as much as I'd rather just sit here and…just…rest...we need to get moving. If we don't…." I trailed off because I had no idea what would happen.

"What's the point? Even if we stop the Blight this is where-"

"Didn't Alistair promise you he wouldn't let that happen?"

"Yes, but…I'm so tired. I…I don't know if…I don't think…I don't know." Neria looked up at me. I was expecting tears but her face was dry and filthy. "Say something to make me feel better."

I thought about that for a bit then finally answered, "You have people who care about you here with you. Especially Alistair."

A smile twitched across her face. "I know."

I sighed and cursed-thanked Sandal. I should have been there on the floor next to Neria having my own breakdown but his magical Xanax won't let me. Instead I've got this clarity of mind that's helping me see what needs to be done. "Then you know you need to be strong for them."

"I don't want to be anymore."

"Doesn't matter what you want. You're still the leader-"

"You be the leader."

"No. I'll give you all the help you want, but you're the leader." I almost added, 'Comes with being a Warden,' but I was pretty sure she didn't want to hear that.

"Then help me now. Get-"

"I'm trying. But _you_ need to get up and get us moving again. _You_ need to stand up and put on the brave face."

"But I've-"

I held out a hand to her. "Stand up. Just…do it, please. I'd kneel down but it's too tough to do in plate."

That made Neria smile a little more but it worked. She grabbed my hand and pulled herself up. "So now what?"

"This is where I'm supposed to give you a pep talk and make you feel better and get you all fired up, but I'm not really good at those."

The smile broadened. "I think you are."

"But you're gonna fire yourself up because _you _are going to talk to everyone. _You_ are going to thank Morrigan for that poison. _You _are going to congratulate Leliana on that shot. _You_ are going tell Sten to let you heal his arm. _You_ are-"

Neria got her stubborn look. The Warden was buried just beneath it. "Why me?"

"Because you're the leader and that's what leaders do. It sucks, but that comes with the job."

"I know, but-"

"And leaders also admit when they're wrong, so you _are_ going to apologize to Alistair. He really didn't know."

Neria narrowed her eyes at me. "Did you?" Yeah, she's a smart girl.

"I...didn't think it was gonna be that bad." More deceptive honesty.

"But you suspected something like that." Warden face.

Nod. "I'm sorry; I should have said something."

"You did, but not enough. Tell me more next time."

"Yes, ma'am," I said quietly. "You should be mad at me, not Alistair."

"I'm not mad at Alistair; it's not his fault. I should be mad at you, but it's not your fault, either." Neria looked down at the ground and kicked at some unseen target. She mumbled something I couldn't hear, looked back up, and then her face softened. "I think you did right by Hespith."

"I hope so." I really do. It felt right at the time, and it does now.

Neria nodded. "You did. Now," she continued as her face and voice rehardened, "tell me about Branka. What do you know about her that Oghren hasn't told us?"

"Not much. It'll wait till after you get us moving."

"You mean after I tell _you_ to put away that rutting book and get on point?" Her voice was quiet and hard and serious, but there was a ghost of a smile there.

I returned her smile with a tiniest one of my own. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Another chapter up! And quick, huh? Well, part of that's because I've managed to rebuild my text buffer so I'm working a chapter and some ahead right now. Another part is that I'm feeling pretty motivated about the next stretch and getting a lot of quality time in at the keyboard._

_And I've got some life-changing events coming up. Nothing bad, so please don't worry about me. It's good, actually. My younger son is leaving for Army Basic Training this coming Monday, and my older one will be graduating with a mathematics degree a couple weeks later. And then at the end of May I'll be heading to Phoenix Comic Con. (Yay! My first con!)_

_So all this is spinning me up and getting me pretty excited about everything, and I hope it's coming through in my writing._

_Oh, and a major milestone: 100,000 total hits to _**Middle of Nowhere**_! I'd like to express my sincere appreciation to everybody out who been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following the story. As I said before it's been a fun ride so far and I hope I can keep up the quality._

_Oh, cookies and kudos to _**AD Lewis** _and_ **InsidiousAgent** _for picking up Jeff's specialization. He is indeed a Champion, but of the leader/mentor sort rather than the inspiring warrior type. I've been trying to just hint at this but_ **Beta Reader** _got fed up and made me directly address the topic._

**InsidiousAgent:** _The US doesn't have the depth of history that Sweden does but there's a pretty strong interest in historical reenactments. Or just historical fun. There's a large contingent of people who reenact the American Civil War and Revolutionary War. If you want to go further back there's the Society for Creative Anachronism and Renaissance Festivals are held all over the country. Plus there's all sorts of cultural festivals and Native American tribes proudly celebrate their heritage._

**Oplindenfep:** _That's all we need here!_

**wpago:** _Sorry, but Jeff's not infantry. However, a good clue to his MOS (that's 'Military Occupational Speciality' for all you non-military types) is buried in Chapter 35._

**bigstupidjellyfish1337:** _I don't think Jeff's familiar with the Lil' John song you're referencing. MINOR SPOILER: there are romances planned but I don't know how well (or romantically) I can write them. I will give them my best shot, though._

**AD Lewis & Gillian Grayson:** _Hope this met your expectations._


	71. Paragons Interrupted

"Well shave my back and call me an elf! I'll bet both my livers that's Branka!" Oghren actually sounded ecstatic.

The figure with short, dark hair in heavy armor stood well above us and responded testily. "Oghren? I thought I recognized your breath."

Safa eased her helmet off. "The Living Paragon?"

Oghren actually cackled. "The one and only!"

Safa _clanked_ to her knees and bowed as formally as she could. "Paragon."

"At least one of you remembers the protocol, although, to be perfectly honest, my tolerance for the social graces has worn away."

"Branka, you crazy bronto, come on down here and talk face to face!"

"Show some respect!" Safa hissed.

That got everybody's eyes on her rather than Branka until the Paragon spoke again.

"Oghren, I should tell you to find your way back to Orzammar." Branka took a hard look at the group. "But I'm curious as why there's such a crowd with you. Which of you is the little lordling he convinced to come with him? And how much is he paying you? Or-" Branka raised a hand. "-has something important happened in Orzammar. Let me guess: Endrin is dead."

Oghren bumped Alistair. "Told you she was smart!"

Alistair bumped Neria. "Is it me or does she sound a lot like Flemeth?"

Safa _sshhed_ us and spoke in her normal voice. "This is a Paragon. Let her speak."

Neria bumped Alistair as she _sshhed_ him. "Paragon Branka?" she called.

"You're the lordling?" Branka laughed. "You'd barely make a splash if I threw you in the pool."

"Show some respect; that's a Grey ow!" Oghren glared at Safa.

Safa returned the stare. "You show some respect; she's your Paragon!"

"Sod off; that's my wife!"

"Your-"

"A Grey Warden?" Branka asked.

"I am. And so is Alistair."

"So, a reasonably important pebble to throw in the pool."

"She sounds nothing like Flemeth," Morrigan whispered.

"And you're right," Neria continued, "King Endrin is dead."

Branka shrugged. "That's not really a surprise; he was always kind of wheezy. But unless-" A smile came across her face. "The succession. It's not settled, is it?" The smile dropped. "They want _me_ to settle it. Stupid rutting deshyrs. [dwarvish]"

Oghren snorted.

"What did that mean?" I asked as quietly as I could.

"'Indecisive descendants.'"

Okay.

Neria tried again. "You're right. The-"

"Pah! You think Orzammar matters to me? The lords love squabbling over the crumbs of the empire. They don't really care about anything until they can't get a jar of plum jam from topside." Branka turned and paced the length of the ledge she on. "They've forgotten what made us strong. The real power that made us the envy of the surface. It's here. The Anvil of the Void. I've found it!"

We started scanning the area.

"Not here, you idiots! But close! So close."

"Close?" Neria asked.

Branka stopped pacing and pointed. "So close I can taste it!"

Neria nodded. "But…," she started.

Branka grabbed the prompt and ran with it. "The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself! My people and I have given body and soul to work our way through it-"

"I'd say _they've_ given body and soul," Alistair quipped darkly. "Yours still seems remarkably intact."

If the remark hit home Branka didn't show it. "I've given up everything, and would sacrifice anything to reach the Anvil."

Neria hunched over a little bit.

"Does that include every member of the house?" Oghren shouted.

That hit home. Branka's face was hidden but her posture shifted and her voice tightened. "Enough talk! Warden-" Branka snorted as she said the word. "-you'll find your return path blocked. The only way is forward since you were…practical enough to kill the broodmother. Find the path to the Anvil, and I'll show you the return route." She laughed. "I'll even accompany you back to Orzammar."

"Sod off!" Neria snapped. She whirled about. "That's it. We're done here. Let's go." The muscles in her jaw were making her ears twitch.

"Warden, please," Safa said.

"That way, Warden." Branka pointed vaguely towards our ten o'clock.

"Zevran," Neria snapped again, "go check the passage. The one we came in through."

"Si, mio capo bella." The elf spun and jogged away.

"I shouldn't have to-!" Branka dropped to her belly.

A small fireball shot over Branka's prone form and burst into sparkling plasma against some overhanging rock.

Neria relaxed and spoke in a satisfied tone. "Would you mind standing so I can try again?"

Branka shouted something in dwarvish then added, "You bitch!"

"Missy!" Safa cried.

"May I have a turn?" Morrigan asked politely.

"I…am…your Paragon!" Branka shouted, but she stayed down. We could hear her armor banging against the rock as she crawled out of sight.

"Not mine!" Neria yelled and shot another small fireball.

"I believe the Paragon to be insane," Sten murmured.

"She's three hurlocks and an Archdemon short of a Blight," Alistair said.

Oghren took a long drink. I don't think there was anything left in the flask when he finished. "What's this place done to her?" he growled. and then slapped his scrounged helmet back on his head. "Missy, if you'd only known her before…this. The girl I married was brilliant! Now she's crazy as a sky-addled duster!"

Neria knelt down and tried to look into Oghren's helmet. Don't know if she was able to, but she reached out and put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, missy, but thanks."

* * *

><p>We were moving about double-tapping way too many not-dead-enough genlocks when Leliana brought up the obvious question. "Safa. I would know if you are with us or with Branka?"<p>

"She's a Paragon." Safa let the words hang there as if that were the only thing that needed to be said.

"She is crazy."

"She's a Paragon!"

"That does not mean she is not crazy."

"She's nuts," I added, "and we need to know if you'll listen to her or Neria."

"Uh…."

"'Why not both?' is not an option!"

"But-"

Leliana fixed Safa with a hard stare. "You heard her. She did not care that her kin, her family, even her lover were turning. She only wanted them for what they could give her, and she took advantage of their misery."

"But she's a Paragon."

Leliana changed tactics. "Safa. Did you not ask Jeffrey to cut off your lovely braid? Why was that?"

Safa stabbed a genlock a lot harder than necessary. "But she's a Paragon," the dwarf whispered.

* * *

><p>"This Caridin is a cunning and possibly sadistic individual," Morrigan said. "But talented as well, for all his mechanisms still work."<p>

"More likely somebody or something is maintaining them." But I agree with Morrigan; Caridin knows how to lay down some traps.

For example:

-A tunnel led through a rockfall that led to a chest sitting on a switch plate. The only safe spot had been next to the chest; that was the only place there weren't any remains.

-A worked section of tunnel was so filled with bodies, bones, and other debris that the walls that caused the fatalities were hopelessly jammed. Whatever mechanism drove them together was _whirring_ uselessly behind the right-hand wall.

-A wide stairway with low walls zigzagged across a chasm. There was a steady stream of water running down the steps. Every place the steps zigged there was no wall, and everyplace they zagged there was a broken door and a flowing water pipe. At least the water was cool and fresh.

* * *

><p>"Come on," I subvocalized.<p>

There was an open door in front of us with a green glow coming from it. The glow was from glowstones, but the green was from the fog that was gently flowing out of the door, down a ramp and into a channel, and from there through some grates on either side of the hallway. A grated bridge lead to the ramp; tendrils of green hurt snaked through the gaps and into the moat.

The fog had to be poisonous; there were too many unmarked corpses lying around for it be otherwise. At least it wasn't corrosive; whatever had half-crushed the other bodies took care of that oversight.

Leliana suddenly appeared in the smoke and ran out through the doorway from which the gas was pouring. She still held a leather scrap pressed tightly against her mouth and nose, but pulled it off as she ran across the bridge.

"Golems!"

I'd warned everybody that something big had to be waiting in there and we weren't disappointed. A pair of living rocks came stomping out the door. Eight feet plus of implacable granite with glowing runes carved on the forearms and around the neck. Detailed but emotionless faces focused on Leliana as she skipped across the bridge, and the golems lumbered across after her.

And right into our kill zone.

"Now!" Wynne called.

Both Neria and Morrigan blasted a cone of cold at the golems and caught them in a crossfire. The two mages poured a lot of juice into their spells; the corridor's temperature dropped below freezing. The golems ground to a halt; rime ice formed over both rocky shapes.

Wynne stepped up to a golem, made an earthbending move, and then simply tapped her staff against the living statue's chest. The golem started shaking; all three mages dived for cover behind the heavies. The expected explosion didn't happen, though; the golem just stood there and shook itself apart like an old pickup truck on a bad road.

I heard a stomp as the remaining golem tried to move forward. "Uh, ladies…," I warned.

"Again," Wynne ordered, and the three mages repeated the process.

Oghren walked up and kicked at the debris. "Shame about destroying those golems, but not bad, grandma. Wanna drink?"

"Thank you, but no."

Morrigan bowed shallowly to Wynne. "'Tis good to know not all your time in the Tower library was wasted."

Wynne took that as a compliment. "Thank you, Morrigan."

"You are welcome." Guess it was a complement.

I popped my helmet off and gave Wynne a nod. "Good job. How you feeling?"

Despite the cold Wynne brushed a bit of sweat of her forehead and popped open her waterskin. "Well enough. The spell was fairly simple." I believed her; she looked and sounded fine.

I glanced over to where Morrigan and Neria were discussing the fight then turned back to Wynne. "You know, in my country we have a saying about age and experience beating out youth and stamina."

Wynne finished drinking and gave me a sly smile. "I'm familiar with that expression."

* * *

><p>"It's as you thought," Zevran said. "Branka is following us."<p>

"She didn't see you, did she?" I asked.

"No, mio amico. She was despairing – and loudly - over the golems we have destroyed. Apparently she wishes to treat us so."

I looked back over my shoulder. "I wonder how she'll feel about this."

A magical trap this time. A spinning stone head with four faces that wept insubstantial blood and shot clouds of energy that bypassed shields and armor and clawed directly at your soul. And summoned ghosts that did the same thing. But we didn't need to rely on my memory; Caridin had left hints to get by this one: each time a ghost was destroyed (easier than it sounds, but when they stabbed you with an ethereal blade it felt like they were cutting directly into your soul) an anvil glowed. A sharp strike on a glowing anvil disabled a face; when all four were down there was a blue-white burst of energy that knocked us all down. We're okay, and whatever was in that explosion restored whatever it was the face and the ghosts had damaged.

"So what do we do about her?" Neria asked. "Is she even safe to have around?"

"Safe enough," I answered. "We're making progress she wasn't able to, so she'll let us keep going until we reach the Anvil."

"And then…?"

"And then she'll try something, but I've been thinking about it, and I've got an idea…."

I'm invoking the Unspoken Plan Guarantee. If it works, I'll tell you what happened. If it doesn't, I'll tell you anyway.

* * *

><p>"By the Ancestors."<p>

"Maker's breath!"

"This has got to be it."

"Careful everyone."

We stepped through one last doorway and into a cavern the size of Orzammar's, but almost brightly lit with glowstones and the reflected glow of lava. A worn path leads towards a rise that overlooks a drop; in the distance, perhaps a quarter mile, we could see the Anvil glowing with a dull, reddish light of its own along with a steady, clean glow that meant it was also touching the Fade. There were a half-dozen golems lining the path, but at first I thought they were statues until they snapped into scale.

And on the path approaching us was a larger golem. Not much larger; maybe a foot or so, but definitely broader, and not made of stone, but instead burnished metal. Where the other golems were roughly chiseled this one was smoothly and carefully worked in the same way Wade had worked on my armor. There were no seams that I could see; every joint was perfectly aligned. Smooth, too; except for the _thumps _it made as it walked I couldn't hear any noise from it. There were glowing runes on its forearms and shoulders, and occasionally a spark of power would dance along the paths carves for the runes.

Its approach was slow and measured, but we (even me) readied ourselves as the golem approached. It stopped about thirty yards away, at the end of the double row of stone golems, considered us for a moment, and spoke in a steady, deep, metallic voice.

In dwarvish. I got Oghren to translate. "Brother and sister, in the name of the stone and the ancestors I greet you." The head and waist turned silently as it took us all in. The motions were slow and deliberate but in no way mechanical. "And you have surfacers with you. Humans. An elf. And a being with which I am unfamiliar." It changed to Fereldan. "Forgive me my manners, but a long time it has been since I had need to speak in the surface tongue. Hoo-mons, elf, and you-" The golem bowed to Sten as it spoke. "Greet you I do, but a poor host am I. Naught but a safe refuge and clean water can I offer. If satisfied with that you will be then honored I will be to give it."

That was far more than we were expecting.

Oghren bumped Neria. "Missy."

Neria had been goggling at the golem. "Oh! Sorry! Uh, thank you, ser…?"

"Caridin you may call me. Living Paragon of the dwarven kingdom, smith, of House Ortan. And your name may I have?"

"_The_ Caridin?" Safa asked.

"I'm, uh, Neria – Neria Amell, mage, of the Circle-"

Alistair cleared his throat.

Neria shot him a sidelong glance. "Mage, of the Circle Tower, and of the Grey Wardens."

"Mages I know, but Grey Wardens…I do not."

"Warriors – and others – dedicated to combating the Blight."

The head tilted slightly. "And the darkspawn?"

"And the darkspawn."

"A noble endeavor, but perhaps ultimately futile."

"Ser? Ser golem?" Safa asked from one knee. "You said you're Caridin. _The_ Caridin?"

The golem's head tilted again. "Ages the fame of my existence has survived." A hint of amusement surrounded the statement. "Know that I am whom I claim to be, though changed my form has."

Safa dropped to the other knee and formally bowed. "By the ancestors! Paragon, I greet you in the name of House- I greet you in the name of the Legion of the Dead."

"That name I do not know."

Zevran elbowed me. "Mio amico, as fascinating as this is, we should depart."

I shook my head. "Yeah, you're right. Neria!" I whispered. When she turned to look I pointed back to the entrance.

"Right."

Zevran had already got Leliana's attention; the three of us backed away from the group.

"Leave my presence your companions do. Have I offended?"

"No, ser," Neria answered. "They're seeing to a, uh, possible, uh, rival."

"A rival…?"

* * *

><p>Back down a corridor, across a beam in the middle of a trapped bridge, and into a cavern. Zevran called a halt. "Branka was a prudente distance behind us. Doubtless she's now examining the machina spetro."<p>

Leliana stretched and laughed softly. "And cursing us for destroying it. And cursing our ancestors as well."

"I wonder if we did really destroy it." I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Do we set up here or move on?"

"Here is good, but one of us-" Zevran nodded towards Leliana. "-should at least locate our target."

The pair raised closed fists and shot even. Zevran bowed to Leliana and slipped away into the shadows. Leliana and I moved to a shadowed corner from where we could watch the path.

Leliana spoke first. "We have not been alone together for much too long."

"But it's not the most romantic setting. Sorry," I added when she winced at the joke.

She gave me a thin smile and continued. "But I have been meaning to ask you about Hespith. Your decision: it was not made lightly, was it?"

"It was lighter than you think. When I saw her up there…. she looked at me like she was asking me to shoot her. She saw me take the bow – hell, Zevran almost gave it to me – and when she stood up…I couldn't miss."

Leliana nodded slowly. "I believe you made the right decision. She confessed her sins, she warned us of the broodmother, and of Branka, and she redeemed herself the best she was able. And if you are feeling guilty for having done so-"

I shook my head. "I'm not. I didn't do it to punish her; I did it to- I don't know. Save her?" I shrugged. "Oghren said she earned back a bit of honor. He doesn't know if that made up for what she said she did. I don't either. I wasn't – I'm not – upset about it. I'm…relieved."

Leliana was quiet for a moment. "I do not know if the Maker calls dwarves to sit at his hand, but perhaps we will one day find Hespith there."

Maybe.

We waited a bit longer for Zevran to return. Leliana was right about us and our ancestors being cursed, but Branka had finally stopped poking around the ghost machine room was headed our way.

"Remember," I instructed, "she doesn't get past us. In either direction."

"Si."

"I understand."

Step 1: I stayed in the dark spot I'd shared with Leliana; she and Zevran found places from which they'd hit Branka from behind. We didn't have to wait long; we could hear the dwarven woman well before we saw her, but then she is wearing plate armor. She came into sight, moving quickly, and I mentally kicked myself for not bringing a mage with us. At least she was alone.

Step 2: I waited for Branka to pass the others and stepped out in front of her. My sword wasn't drawn, my helmet was off, but although my heart was pounding, I was trying to radiate calm. Too bad I wasn't feeling it.

Branka didn't quite skid to a stop. "The Anvil's mine! Out of my way!" No calm coming from her. Her shield came up and a mace came out.

Step 3: "Listen, I just wanna talk for a minute." Completely true, but the talking was to distract Branka while Zevran and Leliana crept up on her.

We'd thought Branka might be too smart for that, and we were right. She spun with surprising grace and damn near crushed Zevran's head. He only saved himself by jumping backwards and landing stylishly on his ass. Leliana did skid to a stop while still out of danger, but wouldn't be for much more.

Step 4: But we'd planned for this, too. I raised my shield and accelerated towards Branka. There was no way she couldn't hear me coming; she spun again but couldn't bring her mace around for a solid swing. Her shield came up as I dropped my shoulder and ran Branka down. It was like running into a fire hydrant, but my momentum bowled her over and I went down on top of her.

"[dwarvish] topsider [dwarvish]!" "Get her!" _clank_ "Ow!" "Fucking bitch!" "Remain still!" "Sod off!" "Vafanculo!"

Branka just wouldn't give up, even with the three of us piling on. It was like _fighting_ a fire hydrant with smaller hydrants for arms and legs. It didn't help that I couldn't help much; it's easier to defend yourself while wrestling in armor than it is to actively subdue someone. I eventually ended laying across Branka's chest holding down her free hand while she tried to hit me with her shield and bite my hip.

Just for the record: plate armor is stronger than dwarves' teeth. But not by much.

* * *

><p>Morrigan's voice rang out as we reentered Caridin's cavern. "The Anvil is an instrument of creation with which one could rival the maker."<p>

"Oh, I doubt it's _that_ powerful," Alistair rejoined.

Morrigan kept going. "Destroying it would be foolhardy and shortsighted; I believe you would come to regret the decision."

Wynne said something we couldn't make out.

"You wouldn't dare!"

Neria added, "So why not?" There was a harsh edge to her voice.

Alistair spoke up again. "Oh, I don't know. Ten feet tall. Invulnerable. Immortal. What's not to like?"

Caridin cut off Morrigan's reply. "Return your companions have, and another they bring with them."

The group turned around, but it was Oghren that spoke first. "Branka! Good to see you again." He looked her up and down. "Heh. This reminds me of our wedding night."

And that's how we ended up at Step 6: walking a roped-up, stripped-down, and thoroughly pissed-off Branka back to the others.

"Get bent, you stinking sod!"

"Heh." He offered up his flask. "Remember the wedding present? Wanna drink?"

Branka replied with a stream of dwarvish.

Caridin actually stepped back in the face of Branka's vehemence. "I take it this other does not accompany you?"

Neria started to answer. "Uh…."

Safa spoke from where she was on her knees. "This other is the Living Paragon – the other Living Paragon – Branka."

Caridin's helmet rotated then zeroed in on me. "A Paragon you would treat so?"

"Release me! I demand it!"

I helped Zevran manhandle Branka up to the group. "She's lucky we're treating her this nice."

"You can't do this!"

"Oh, we're doing it."

"The Anvil belongs to me!"

"Why are you treating her so?"

I looked at Neria. "You haven't told him?"

"Not yet."

"Tell him."

* * *

><p>I don't know how a ten-foot tall chunk of living metal can convey exhausted despair, but Caridin pulled it off. "Much pain and suffering my creation has wrought. Destroyed it must be."<p>

"Roh! Oo ant!"

We'd long since given up on Branka's tirades so we'd gagged her on top of everything else. I think Safa's about to have a breakdown over that, but Oghren's been getting tons of mileage from it. Although Alistair's at the point where he doesn't want listen to anything Oghren has to say. Poor Safa's near tears over how we're treating Branka and gets worse every time Branka yells, but hasn't done anything to act against us. And Zevran's collecting bets on how long it'll take her to chew through the rope.

"This construct that was once your Living Paragon believes destroying the Anvil is the best for your people. Why can you not accept this?"

Sten's question sent Branka in a paroxysm of restrained thrashing and muffled shouts.

"Very well. Since you choose to ignore reason I will choose to ignore you." Sten stood from where he'd been kneeling and walked away to examine one of the stone golems.

"Cullen, no," Neria warned.

He'd been about to mark Branka. (Don't really blame him.) The Mabari _huffed_ and trotted away to futilely beg Wynne for treats.

"To know a new people is worth much." Caridin's head rotated as he watched Sten walk away then turned back to us. "As long as the Anvil exists, used it will be by the corrupt and greedy. By those who see naught in the value of life. To help me destroy it you must."

Zevran paused from washing his face. "I have a question, o venerable one. Why haven't you destroyed the Anvil yourself?"

"A fair question, master elf. The Anvil I created, and as exist I do, exist the Anvil will. Destroy me, and the Anvil may be easily destroyed. Yet destroy the Anvil, and greatly weakened I will be. Were I to weaken it I would weaken myself, and continue my task I could not."

"So you must have the help of others?"

"I must."

Zevran bowed. "I see. Grazi."

We ignored Branka's protests, but I thought about the answer Zevran'd received. Makes me wonder if Caridin actually wanted to be found. At least by thinking beings; the standard darkspawn wouldn't have been able to navigate those traps. I think.

* * *

><p>I was sitting there tapping my pen trying to figure out what to add to the above when a shadow fell over me.<p>

Caridin's voice echoed. "Pardon, ser hoo-mon. Your armor: crafted by dwarves was it?"

I tried to look up but couldn't, so I scrambled to my feet. "It was. Oh, and, you can call me Jeff."

Caridin bowed ever so slightly. "Honor me with your name, you do, hoo-mon of the book. I ask another honor: your armor, may I repair it?"

I blinked with surprise. "_I'd_ be honored, but what about…?" I looked and waved around at the others.

"Spoken to your leader mage I have, and greatly pleased she is at my offer, yet she asked that I speak with each of you in turn. Spoken to the one called Qunari I have, and he-." Caridin paused. "Yes, he. He is also honored by my offer. The other hoo-mon warrior I will speak to next."

"Uh, thank you."

"You are welcome. Inform you I will when I am ready for your armor."

"Sounds good."

Caridin started to turn away but stopped when I spoke again.

"Caridin. I don't know how much Neria and the others told you about Orzammar, but that's it for the dwarves. No other thaigs, nowhere else to go but the surface if the city falls."

"Told of this I was."

I closed my eyes, winced, and spoke again. I couldn't meet what passed for Caridin's eyes. "Golems would help. A lot."

Caridin shifted. Not angrily, I hoped. "Create more golems I would not. Neither would I risk the Anvil falling into hands such as this Paragon's. Before this place you depart I would see the Anvil destroyed."

I nodded seriously. "Fair enough. But originally, you took only volunteers. Would you again?"

"To harm no more with the Anvil is my wish."

"But a volunteer-"

"My experience is that volunteers soon are not."

"But a volunteer – who knows the risks – who knows…everything about the process…would you…?"

"A corrupting power is the Anvil."

I finally got my thoughts together. "Listen. We're the only ones who know how to get here. Let us go back and deal with the Blight. After it's over we'll make some…discreet inquiries and see if we can't round up a few volunteers – real volunteers – who understand what they're doing and bring them here. You…transform them, and then we destroy the Anvil. Orzammar'll be better protected, and the Anvil won't be in anyone's hands but yours."

Caridin considered that for a moment. "The Living Paragon knows of this place."

"The Living Paragon is fucking nuts."

"This expression I do not understand."

"Insane. Crazy. And if we take her back to Orzammar everybody there'll know what she did to get to you. You think anyone'll wanna come here with her after that gets out?"

"There are those who would bathe in lava should a Paragon ask that of them."

"That's a good point. But…at least think about it?"

Caridin stood there with the patience of stone. Sparks ran along his form for a long time before he gave his answer. "Your proposal: think on it I will. Allow me my craft, and my answer I will give."

"That's all I'm asking."

* * *

><p>Neria was standing in front of Branka idly twirling her repaired staff on its butt. She'd sliced her thumb open testing the new edge and Caridin had worked in a rune that made the thing glow icy blue whenever she channeled mana through it. Like at the moment. "Before we take the gag out think carefully about what you're going to say. Say the wrong thing and we might not be so understanding. I think you know what I mean."<p>

Cullen was lying at Neria's feet gnawing on some unidentifiable thing but was closely watching Branka. Wynne just stared coldly. (Morrigan should have been there but she was more interested in watching Caridin work at the Anvil.) Oghren was standing next to Neria leaning on his freshly sharpened axe but wearing only his undergarments. Alistair was standing there easily but with a predatory smile. (No armor for him either; Caridin said the repair work is 'stimulating' and 'enjoyable.' And of the two Alistair's much easier on the eyes.)

We were standing in a rough semi-circle behind Zevran, who was kneeling in front of Branka. Leliana was behind her, and Sten was standing behind Leliana. Zevran nodded at Leliana; she loosened the rope around Branka's head and he pulled it from across her mouth and helped her spit out the cloth we'd shoved in.

"Well?" asked Neria.

"Guh-ah."

Zevran held up a basin and let Branka drink greedily and messily from it. She finally coughed and shook her head and coughed some more. "The Anvil. Don't destroy it. We need it."

Oghren knelt down and spoke gently. For him. "Branka, you sodding insane nughumper, you spent so much time dreaming about the Anvil you've lost yourself trying to find it. Look at yourself, woman!" He stood up and shook his head. "You aren't the girl I married anymore."

Branka just glared back. "I haven't been that girl for a long time," she growled. She shook out a single freed arm under our close supervision. "But you: you're the same stinking drunk I remember."

"But at least I can look at myself in the mirror."

"Only if you can see the mirror!"

"Oghren!" Neria snapped. "Go…talk to Safa."

"Missy-"

"Go." Neria bobbed her head. "Please."

Oghren grumbled but complied. "Sure, missy."

"Taking orders from little girls now? My Oghren, how far you've come."

Oghren took one step and froze. "Missy here – well, she may be just whelped but she's got some honor, and some stones, and some good people behind her. _And_ they're all still people."

Branka didn't react to that at all.

Neria whipped her head around towards Oghren but her expression was happy and grateful. "Thank you!"

"Ah, don't get rutting sappy on me." The dwarf stalked away.

Neria turned back around to Branka. The happiness was gone. "You."

Branka half shrugged and answered the unasked question. "Release me and allow me to claim the Anvil."

"I think Caridin might have word or two to say about that," Alistair replied.

"Simply release me and allow me my gear and Caridin will have nothing to say."

"No, he'll still have plenty to say. We gave him the control rod."

Branka narrowed her eyes and looked for a sympathetic face. She skipped over me and everybody else and ended up back at Neria. "You're a Grey Warden. Isn't your order supposed to be ruthless?"

Neria glared right back. "Only when fighting the darkspawn."

"I'm trying to fight the darkspawn!"

"Oh, I see," Alistair said. "She's trying to confuse them by turning her friends and family into more darkspawn. Very tricky."

"I only did that to reach the Anvil!"

"Is it really worth that much?" Wynne asked.

"Of course it is! You've seen Orzammar. You've seen the Deep Roads. You've seen what our empire's fated to become!"

"And the Anvil's the solution to that?"

"Yes! With the Anvil we could create an unstoppable army and reclaim our empire. We can reclaim our future!"

"Not by strapping people to the Anvil and turning them into golems!" Neria snapped.

"I wouldn't force anyone!"

"Hah!" "Bullshit!" "Liar." Bitter laughter.

"None of you uh!" Branka grunted as Leliana twisted her flailing arm and pinned it to her back. "Bitch!"

Leliana responded quietly. "I can tie you so no harm will come to you. Or not. It is your choice."

"Sod off, bitchah!"

Leliana torqued Branka's arm and quickly roped it off to a convenient rock.

"You have done this before, mio bella rosa?"

Leliana shrugged as she secured a knot. "You should know."

"Indeed. Perhaps we should compare techniques."

I bumped Alistair. "Come on. We're not gonna get anything useful out of her."

"Yeah. You're right." He followed me as I walked away then quietly asked another question. "How does someone do something like that? And not care?"

"She's obsessed. Insane. She has to be."

"'Has to be'?"

"She better be. Cause if she's not…."

"If she's not…." Alistair glanced back and shuddered. "Maker."

There was a yell and a splash from behind us. We turned around to see Neria standing over Branka with the empty basin. I thought Neria was going to hit the dwarf with it, but she dropped the pan. "You can sit there in your own piss for all I care!"

Alistair and I walked away as Branka coughed.

"What are we going to do with her?"

I shrugged. "No idea."

"Hmm. Take her back to Orzammar?"

"You really wanna drag her all that way?"

"We'll need her to pick a king."

I gave Alistair a smile. "Maybe not." I pointed up to where Caridin was tirelessly working at the Anvil. "Let's see what he has to say about it."

* * *

><p><em>AN: as promised, another relatively quick update. Expect the next one to be just as fast._

_My son left for summer camp at Fort Sill this past Sunday. Lots of fresh air, outdoor activities, and patient, understanding counselors. As Oghren would say, "Heh. Good luck, you sod."_

**Dancing on Clouds of Sorrow** **& GlysMari**: _thank you both for having the patience to conduct an epic read-through of the story so far and leave a few reviews! Welcome aboard!_

_Jeff's slowly but steadily having a butterfly effect on things. As you can see by this chapter Niall was just a beginning._

_And his way of dealing with stress is to deflect it with humor. Glad you like what I'm able to sneak in._

**AccessBlade**: _Jeff's age does have advantages, but it does have drawbacks as well. Nothing a little magical healing can't cope with, though. MINOR SPOILER: the DA2 stuff is a possibility but Jeff's influence is, for now, likely to be short-term and limited to what you saw in Chapter 47 with Isabela._

**Narcist87:** _thank you! I'm playing to my writing strengths by going with this style, but as you saw with Chapter 60 I'm willing to experiment. Sometimes it works…._

**Gillian Grayson:** _yeah, it's probably dead. Nothing could survive that. Right?_

**SnowHelm, war sage, & thedude19859:** _thank you all!_

**AD Lewis:** _as I've said before I would have really liked ME-style interrupts in DA2. Maybe we'll get them in DA3. As for the others becoming suspicious of Jeff's knowledge…._

**Phygmalion:** _I didn't want to describe just another fight, albeit against a very unconventional opponent. In-game it's actually not that hard; just let Leliana plink the broodmother while the others keep the tentacles and darkspawn away. With enough distance a broodmother could probably be killed with almost no risk._

_I hadn't read through The Keening Blade but given the ultimate fate awaiting captured women as well as the alchemical abilities of some party members poison seemed like a logical reaction._

_MINOR SPOILER: interesting you should mention darkspawn generals._

**wpago:** _good guess, but no. But the clue is still there._


	72. Bad Medicine

Morrigan carefully strutted towards me, her booted feet crossing over each other and striking the floor with soft _taps_ that echoed by the heavier, rhythmic, tireless _clangs_ from the distant Anvil. Her eyes, shadowed but flashing, were fixed on me with the promise of both pleasure and danger. She pouted, and her lips, red and swollen, parted ever so slightly and a pink tongue flicked across them. Her lips parted further and she smiled gently to reveal white, sharp, nope-not-human teeth.

[amused hiss]

I considered the situation while I kept the rifle ready. "Nice try, but you still don't have the teeth down."

D-Morrigan stopped a safe distance away and crossly stomped a foot.

I was surprised at the sheer humanity of the gesture. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"I told you of his resistance to the simple base desires."

The demon ignored me and spun around to face D-Amy. "But they're desires! Why won't he embrace them?"

"Because," I answered, "they're simply base desires."

"This one," D-Amy said, "has deeper, more complex desires. And the desire to achieve them. Yet he's so cautious that he would deny himself his wants."

"And I do like having sole custody of my soul."

D-Morrigan hissed at D-Amy. "Those wants are…impossible!"

D-Amy shrugged. "Not entirely so."

D-Morrigan spun back around to me and ripped her top open. "I know you desire this form! It is yours if you wish"

I stared appreciatively. "Nice tits, and…thanks. But I'm old enough to know better, so no thanks. I'm good for now." But yeah, they were nice tits.

D-Morrigan hissed at me. Anger and frustration bubbled out.

I raised the rifle.

"Use caution," D-Amy said. "His weapon is powerful."

"And so is he! This would be so much simpler-" (No particular emphasis on these words, but they're important. I need to figure out why.)

"No!" _Crack!_

[alerted hiss]

I snapped the rifle up as D-Amy leaped and staggered D-Morrigan with a heavy backhanded blow.

"I told you not to speak of that!"

I stared at D-Amy over open sights. "Not to speak of what?"

"Come with me!" D-Amy grabbed the other demon by the wrist and started dragging her away.

D-Morrigan kept her shape but hissed at the stronger demon.

"Amy! Not to speak of what?"

D-Amy looked back over her shoulder and gave me a warm smile that froze me in place. "Until next time."

"Stop!" I finally managed to squeak out.

D-Amy kept going, whispering furiously to D-Morrigan as she did. Neither of them looked back.

I tracked them through my sights until they disappeared into a tunnel. "Crap." I lowered the rifle. "Fine. Until next time."

* * *

><p>"Are you certain you heard the demon correctly?"<p>

I was tapping the diary furiously but stopped at Morrigan's question. (For the record: I didn't tell her how the lesser demon was tempting me.) "I think so. I've been doing my best to get things down right, and I'm pretty sure that's what I heard." The three mages looked a bit skeptical, so I repeated myself. "Pretty sure."

"And you're certain it wasn't talking about your Fade weapon?" The older mage looked curious and concerned.

"She said 'And so is he.' And then the first demon dragged her away. That's gotta mean something."

Neria shook her head. "And you don't have any ideas?"

I shook mine back. "No. I need more info. I'm not…even making good guesses right now."

"Yet you continually confront this demon. And by doing so you risk yourself." Morrigan studied me the way she'd study a useful plant. "It finds you desirable. Ironic, no?"

Neria crossed her arms; the gesture reminded me of D-Morrigan. "_I_ never have this kind of trouble with demons."

"That is because you lack subtlety. Have I not told you that not every problem should be solved with a fireball?"

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

Wynne chimed in. "Things do tend to explode when you're around." She suddenly smiled and looked at Morrigan and me. "I haven't told you about-"

Neria turned the color of Wynne's robes. Well, the color Wynne's robes should be. "No! Not that!"

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Because…if you do I'll tell them about…."

"Neria, dear, there's very little you can say that can embarrass me."

"Not even Bevan?"

"No, not even Bevan…."

Morrigan pulled me aside, and we put a little distance between us and the Tower mages. "As much as I would enjoy listening to them, I prefer to caution you. Power, as you well know, is tempting. If this demon believes you have some modicum of power, then, whether or not you do, it will attempt to seize that power from you."

I frowned at the witch. "So I should tread carefully?"

"You must tread according to the path you wish to take. If you desire power- at the least, whatever power you hold in the Fade – continue on your course. If you do not desire power, then remember there are those who do, and act accordingly."

I didn't answer.

"And if you simply desire knowledge…is that not another form of power?"

Nod. "Yeah."

"This demon of yours is offering to trade power for power, but 'twould not do so if it thought 'twere to receive the lesser part of the bargain." Morrigan smirked. Just a bit. "Tread carefully, for 'twould be most disconcerting to awaken as an abomination."

That sounded familiar. "Haven't we had this conversation before?"

The smirk grew. "I am certain of it. Seek me when you next expect to dream in the Fade." She must have seen something on my face because the smirk suddenly disappeared. "Or seek Wynne, or Neria. But do not face this demon alone any longer."

I got a chill and nodded. "I understand."

"Perhaps you do."

* * *

><p>"Uh, no offense, Oghren - and Safa - but that thing is <em>hideous<em>. _I_ wouldn't want to wear it."

Neria was holding the golden crown Caridin had forged for us. Alistair's right; it is hideous. It's basically done in two parts: a lower, helmet-like section with a pair of wings (I guess) meant to wrap around the wearer's face like sideburns, and an upper section that combines the worst of traditional crown design with some straight-line-dwarven-sensibility-meets-art-deco-s tyling. And each of the risers has a couple of rubies the size of my thumbnail attached to it.

Alistair kept going. Quietly enough so Caridin couldn't hear. "He's certainly an amazing smith, but his…his…his, uh…."

"His sense of design is more suited to armor and weapons than fashion." Leliana was clearly trying to speak without laughing.

"No offense taken, pretty boy. I prefer my hats to be a little more functional." Oghren smacked his freshly refurbished helmet.

"Me too-" Safa held up an identical helmet. "-_pretty boy._" She looked around at us all. "What? He has nice hair."

* * *

><p>"I need more charcoal. Thanks."<p>

Leliana picked up another piece for herself and went back to taking rubbings from the golem name wall. "Do you need more paper?"

"I'm good."

I rubbed a few more lines of names. "So what did Caridin make for you?"

"Arrowheads. Small, but heavy ones of good steel, with runes that burst with fire or ice. And some arrows of a light but strong metal."

I stopped rubbing and thought about that for a second. Aluminum? Or titanium maybe? Cool. "I'd like to see them. If you don't mind."

"Of course I do not, but we should finish this task first."

"Yep." I got back to work.

Leliana started on another name. "The arrows, they are-" Her tone changed to surprise. "Look over there."

I looked in the direction she nodded. Neria and Alistair were sitting and talking quietly. Alistair made a quip and Neria actually smiled at it. They both seemed completely at ease with each other for the first time since finding Airson and company. And that ex-Warden. "That's good."

"They are still friends, no? This is good to see."

"Yeah, it is."

"I have been worried for them."

"I think we all have."

Leliana's charcoal stopped its soft scratching. "I was afraid Neria would not be up to her task, and of Alistair being too timid to accept his. And you: though a reluctant hero-"

"Lost."

"-you have come far since we met."

I have. How long has it been? At least three months. Probably a lot closer to four. I've become a decent tank (although Alistair's a lot better), a competent swordsman (at least against darkspawn), a very good crossbow shot (no comment), and I've certainly changed the way things are supposed to happen (jury's still out on whether that's good or bad or both). OTOH, I've been beaten, stabbed, blasted with various sorts of magic, scared shitless (make that literally pissless), tired, hungry, wet, cold,

At the time, though I just stood there doing nothing and thinking about not much more.

"Lost in your thoughts again?"

I started and refocused on Red. "You know, and I mean absolutely no offense by this, but I'd much rather be home with a cup of tea and a…a good book than down here with y'all."

Leliana stopped her rubbing, turned to me, and let her mask slip. She looked as tired as I feel; her face was drawn and tight. "I take no offense. I would much rather be in Lothering taking comfort in the Chant. My greatest fear there was having the Revered Mother assign me duties with the latrine."

Her face was perfectly serious but I snorted and choked back a laugh. "I'm sorry, but…."

Leliana smiled graciously. "Again, I take no offense." The smile dissolved. "I know now it was a silly fear-"

"It wasn't silly."

"-compared to the duties we now face. But the Maker seeks to challenge us; we may quail from the tasks he sets before us, but we can overcome them."

"Okay."

That teased another smile out. "Do not worry; I do not wish to lecture you. We _can_ overcome our obstacles, and I am feeling confident that we may do so."

A list – a long list – popped up in my head. "Well, first we gotta get back to Orzammar."

"I doubt returning will be the challenge leaving was."

"So do I, but-" I shook my head. "-I've seen a lot of stories where the heroes think they're safe-"

"-and tragedy befalls them unexpectedly for they believe the danger has passed." Leliana's smile opened up. "I know these things. I am a bard, after all. Come; let us finish our task."

* * *

><p>I just took a look at Leliana's new aluminum arrows.<p>

Ding.

Ding.

Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding.

* * *

><p>I waited a safe distance from Caridin as he worked at the Anvil. Well, not just his Anvil. He's got a little workshop here with probably everything he needs to do whatever work he wants to do. Tools, smaller anvils, a forge, and dozens of ingots of all sorts of metals. It's a little difficult for me here, though; every time Caridin strikes the Anvil there's a flash that ripples through the Veil. From a distance it's just a gentle strobe; up close it's like having camera flashes go off in your face.<p>

But I waited patiently and watched as the golem worked on a weapon; a knife, it looked like. Maybe one of Zevran's. But I also made sure I had eyes on the rest of the group and that they were well away from the forge. And I'd waited until Sten was asleep.

"Hoo-mon of the book. May I be of service?"

"Well, first, uh, thank you for helping us out-"

Caridin's massive form bowed with the grace of a semi truck.

"-and you don't need to be so formal; you can call me Jeff."

"Honor me with your name you do again, but I must offer apologies. Names are foreign to me. Flit away they do like sparks from my forge."

"I…see."

His metal not-eyes bored into me. "But standing here you are. You desire something?"

"Only a moment to talk."

"Moments like names flit away."

Beat.

"Please. Speak."

"I saw the arrows you made for Leliana."

"The red-haired archer?"

"Yeah. But that got me thinking about some things, and I guess I need to know if you can keep a secret for me."

If the golem could have raised an eyebrow it would have. "Secrets I can keep," Caridin answered in a 'duh' tone of voice.

"Then what I have to tell you needs to stay a secret." I put some papers down on a workbench. "Can you read this?"

The virtual eyebrow went higher. "With effort I am able."

I sighed with relief. I knew I couldn't spend hours talking to Caridin like I did with the dwarves back in Orzammar, so I'd written down the black powder formula, sketched out some basic firearms, and added a lot of notes. "I gave this to some smiths in Orzammar because it should be extremely useful against the darkspawn."

"A weapon?"

"Yeah. Potentially very powerful. I can kinda design it but I definitely don't know how build it. The Orzammar smiths probably can, but…if you'd be willing to work on it after we leave…."

"Know that more destruction I am reluctant to create."

"I understand, but weapons are only tools. They can be used for good or evil."

Caridin shifted. "Agree I do that a mace is but a mace. Yet the Anvil's fate you ask me to reconsider. Control it you would?"

I took a step backwards. "No! I…couldn't do that! But your skills; they're too important- The dwarves need you, even if you never make another golem."

Caridin just stood there.

I waited until the silence got uncomfortable (about five seconds) and apologized. "I'm sorry if I insulted you."

The golem shifted. "Chosen poorly your words were, but their sincerity I do not doubt. Think upon them more I shall, and set aside the insult."

"Thank you," I said, "and remember: this is our secret."

"Question not my ability to keep secrets." The voice was the same, but the words were a rebuke.

I nodded to Caridin. "Sorry. Again. I'll, uh, go now. But first-" I laid my sword on the workbench to give myself a cover story. "-if you could…."

Caridin bowed again. "Hold your secret I will. And to your weapon I will see."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Zevran idly fingered one of his knives while he spoke. "I wonder what our modello di virtue would have done when she ran out of her own foodstuffs."<p>

Branka was shoving mystery meat jerky into her mouth and swallowing before she had time to really chew it. She stopped and gave Zevran an evil glare and spoke hoarsely. "I've got plenty of food. It's you who's running low."

"Our supplies are adequate, and we are not eating like a mad woman."

"You haven't fed me for two wakings!" Branka leaned forward as if she were going to leap at Zevran and take a chunk out of him.

Sten pointed his newly renovated sword at Branka's chest. "Consider yourself fortunate to be fed at all." His lips were just barely twitching into a deeper frown. "Your actions would warrant instant death were you Qunari."

Branka settled back as Sten delivered his warning. "'Instant death'? As opposed to a slow one from starvation?"

"As you said, it has been two wakings. You hungered, but were in no danger. And we provided water."

"The little whelp nearly drowned me! Twice!" She bit off a hunk of jerky like she was biting into one of us.

Sten doesn't really relax; he just gets less alert. "Our leader has cause to be greatly angry with you, as do the women in our group. And yet you live."

Now Branka glared at Sten as she chomped. "Not if you had anything to say about it."

"This is correct."

"So why feed me?"

"Neither Qunari nor our group's leader are deliberately cruel." Sten glanced at Zevran. "Others in the group have…different standards."

"Ah, mio amico grande, you wound me. I'm never cruel; it's unprofessional."

"Unless the contract calls for it."

"See, you understand. Cruelty should never be personal." Zevran shrugged. "It causes one to lose one's objectivity."

Branka blinked at the exchange. "You're…not just a…are you an assassin?"

Zevran smiled warmly and gave the woman a seated bow. "Late of the Antivan Crows. But it's a story better left for another time."

Branka turned to face Sten. "You attempt to lecture me on morality while you consort with an assassin?"

"The assassin is no longer an assassin. He has transferred his loyalty – and satisfactorily so – to our leader."

Zevran's smile stayed warm but his voice cooled. "And when I was still veramente an assassin I performed my business under strict rules. Those outside the contract were to never be harmed." A single finger was raised as his voice became frosty. "Yes, mistakes have been made, but they were honest, and those responsible were punished."

Sten spoke again. "I have murdered. I acknowledge this, and I seek atonement for doing so. My atonement will not restore those I killed to life, but my service to the Wardens may spare others. But despite this, I will present myself for judgment upon my return to Qunari lands."

First I'd heard of that.

First time for Zevran, too, I think, because he gave Sten a strange look. But then he turned his focus back to Branka. "The important thing is we recognize the mistakes we-"

Branka sprayed crumbs. "You don't understand! I did this for Orzammar! Not for me! And if you'd listen to-"

Zevran held up the gag we'd been using on her. "Calm yourself." It wasn't a suggestion but instead an order.

Branka stopped with her mouth open and looked around for a friendly face. I guess mine was the closest she got. "What about you?" she asked me.

"What about me?"

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"Nothing that they haven't said already."

"So what are you doing?"

I held up the journal. "Why do you think Oghren calls me 'shaper'?"

"Our veterano is keeping an exhaustive diario of our journey."

Branka actually smiled at that. "Good. Then you can enter this into your memories: I did what I had to do-"

Branka kept going but I snapped the book shut. I reached up a hand to Sten; he pulled me to my feet, and I walked away listening to Branka's yells being muffled by her gag.

* * *

><p>Oghren offered up his flask. "You sure you don't wanna drink, shaper?"<p>

I shook my head. "Not until the instant we're back in Orzammar."

Safa snatched the flask. "Then I get his share." She drank my share, hers, and probably part of Oghren's.

"Are you two drunk?"

"Yep," Safa answered quietly. "Gotta problem with that?" The words were challenging, the tone wasn't, but the face definitely was.

"Not really, but…okay, I gotta know. Where do you keep filling that thing up at?"

The blonde and the ginger exchanged a knowing look. "Ancient dwarven secret," Oghren chuckled.

"Fine. Was there a point to all this?"

Safa cut a drink off short and handed the flask back to Oghren. "It's not right to treat a Paragon this way."

Oghren paused with the flask at his lips. "Rutting right!" He drank, waited a moment, and then elbowed Safa. "But…?"

Safa frowned. "But we've been talking and-"

"And drinking!"

"-and drinking, and we've both decided-"

"We've both decided Branka's crazier than a sky-addled deepstalker wrangler."

I raised an eyebrow. "I think we've _all_ decided that."

"Yeah, well, that's why we wanted you here. Pull out that book you're always scribbling in."

"Gimme a minute." I fetched the journal from my gear; when I got back the dwarves had apparently drained the flask dry. I shook my head at them but took a seat and opened the book. "So now what?"

Oghren leaned forward, leaned back, belched, and leaned forward again. "Write this down, and write it down right: the Branka I knew was a smart, sweet girl who only wanted to make things better for us." He sounded almost sober.

Safa waved the flask at me. "And that's what Paragons are supposed to be all about. Making things better for the dwarves. For all of us." She was definitely buzzing, but her voice was as quiet as ever.

Oghren started talking again. "But after she got made Paragon she'd just – well, she'd lost her heat. Just sat there, staring at the walls. Too many folks kept coming in, nuzzling her rump, telling her how great she was."

"But Paragons _are_ great. Least they're supposed to be."

"Well, Branka didn't wanna be great; she wanted to be useful. And that's what got her looking for the Anvil; she couldn't think up anything else to make her great." Oghren's voice was quiet and sullen. "Ancestors know she tried."

"She didn't need be any greater than she already was. But she wanted to be, and that's why I don't have my plait anymore."

"No, she wanted to be rutting useful. And great. And sod your hair; that's why I don't have a house!"

Safa crossed her arms and bowed drunkenly. "Apologies, warrior."

Oghren groaned. "Ah, sod it."

Safa eyeballed me. "Shaper, you getting all this?"

"Yep. Just don't go too fast."

Oghren snatched the flask and tried to look at the contents.

"Good," Safa continued. "Cause if Branka'd actually got to the Anvil then maybe she'd be a Living Paragon twice over. If the Ancient Paragon there didn't just crush her."

"Didn't wanna risk those traps herself," Oghren grumbled. "Sent the whole sodding house in so she could figure'em out. Didn't help her none. Don't know if it's a good thing we came along or not. Nah, it's a good thing; now we know what happened. We just gotta get back to tell the tale."

"You think anybody'll believe us?"

"That's what he's here for."

Safa bowed to me. "Shaper."

I nodded my head to her. "Warrior. Or is it Legionnaire?"

"Doesn't matter. But this does: she broke my faith in the Paragons. And Caridin can't fix it."

Oghren spoke up. "But if you'd known her before-"

Safa shook her head. "I met her once. As a Paragon. She smiled and said she liked my hair. She doesn't remember me."

"That's when she was still _Branka_; not this…." Oghren waved his arms around helplessly.

"Yeah. She wasn't _this_."

The two dwarves stopped and stared at me as I wrote as quickly as I could.

Oghren spoke when I stopped writing. "Maybe if we get her back to Orzammar-"

"Maybe," Safa agreed.

"-but until then we're with the Wardens."

"Yep."

"So make sure you get this right, shaper."

I looked up from the book. "I don't understand."

Safa had some tears running down her face. "It's a rare thing to see dwarves denying a Paragon. This is something that has to go in the memories. Even if they're human memories.

"Aye. It does." Oghren rubbed his eyes then flicked his fingers at my journal. A fine spray of water struck my hand and the paper. "Just rutting make sure the descendants know I'm not crying."

I nodded. "Anything you say."

Oghren nodded and snorted. "You sure you don't wanna drink?" He shook the flask; we could hear a bit of liquid sloshing about in its depths.

"Not till we're back in Orzammar."

Oghren grinned and raised the flask to me. "I'm holding you to that."

* * *

><p>I jerked awake and realized a few seconds later it was a woman's scream that startled me. I grabbed my sword and looked around. The entire group was up and alert with weapons ready to go.<p>

"She's all right!" Alistair called. He was already sitting by Neria.

She was visibly shaking, and then she suddenly rolled away from Alistair and crawled a few feet before throwing up. "Oh, Maker!" she panted.

Alistair said something; Neria retched in reply. Alistair said something else and got a nod and a gasped answer. He turned around and looked at the rest of us. "I think we need to go."

* * *

><p>"For your journey," Caridin intoned. He handed Neria a short stack of papers upon which he'd drawn a map of Bownammar. No surprise there about him knowing the place; the real surprise was how finely he could manage a pen with fingers the size of burritos. He also provided us with a set of manacles for Branka and a finely sculpted key for the manacles, so I guess manual dexterity isn't a problem for him. (Leliana's already tried picking the lock; took her a while but she finally got it. Zevran's still working on it.)<p>

But then he showed Neria a polished metal cylinder engraved with runes. "The control rod brought here by the Paragon. Attuned it to this one I have." Caridin tapped one of his stone golems with the cylinder. The statue ground to life and stared at the ancient Paragon, and then at Neria when Caridin passed her the rod.

"By the Ancestors," Safa intoned quietly.

Branka tried to throw a shit-fit, but we'd already tied her hands and stuffed the gag into place. Oghren hasn't had much more to say to her except 'Shut up, you crazy bronto'.

Neria just bowed and thanked the metal golem as Caridin gave her each of these items. She passed the map to Leliana, the control rod to Wynne, and had Zevran slap the manacles on Branka.

"Your companions leave they must now, yet the Grey Wardens I would speak with." He bowed to us as a group. "Thank you all I do for giving me the opportunity to craft honestly. Atrast nal tunsha."

Even though she was pissed-off and hung over Safa bowed so deeply I thought she'd fall on her face. "Paragon."

Even Oghren showed some respect. "Caridin. May the stone always be beneath your feet."

The rest of us gave our thanks, wished Caridin well, and said goodbye in our own ways. Then we turned, and with the golem stomping along behind us, headed out the door and back towards Bownammar.

"Await the Grey Wardens before the water test," Caridin called to us. "The golem the bridge may not hold."

And that's where we're at now. Getting out was a lot easier than getting in even though a couple of the traps were working again. As we approached each one a golem eyed us and worked hidden catches to disable the mechanism. We had to wait a few minutes for the poison gas to clear, but otherwise there weren't any problems until a flash rippled out from the Veil and made my second sight try to blink.

Wynne and Morrigan felt it, too; the three of us stopped at once and looked back towards Caridin's cavern then flinched as another lightless flash erupted.

"What is wrong?" Sten asked.

"Something's happening with the Anvil," Wynne said.

Another flash.

"They're destroying it," I said. "Dammit."

"Es oy ig! Oh!"

"Destroying it?" Safa asked. "But the Paragon…."

Morrigan used her staff to thump the protesting Branka. "The Paragon is-" She winced at another flash. "-not likely to survive the destruction of the Anvil." Flash. "If what he told us is true, and we have no reason to doubt his word." Branka got another thump. "Silence!"

There was yet another flash. I felt a needle poke into the back of my eyes and saw Wynne wobble. "Let's get – uh! – further away. Oghren: help Wynne."

"Come on, grandma!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Ah! Do not touch me, elf!"

"Come Morrigan, you may take my arm."

"I need some help here!"

"I have you."

Half of us staggered and the other half helped the first half stagger to the bridge. I was developing a migraine; if she was still by the Anvil Neria must have been going through hell. The flashes continued, and became brighter, and suddenly went from flashing to strobing to not quite steady, and there was a dazzling burst of nothing and then more nothing.

My head was clamped in a vise of soundless light and bright pressure. I half-fell to my knees and leaned on my (nicely repaired; thank you, Caridin) shield, and gasped for air.

Safa walked over and stared curiously at me. "I don't understand. Is he a mage, too?"

"Drink, mio amico." Zevran slipped a healing potion into my hand then answered Safa. "Our armored amico here is no mage, but he is sensitive to the Veil and Fade. It's a curious story…."

* * *

><p>We had to wait a while but eventually Alistair and Neria came into sight. He was stiff-legged; she was leaning on him and Cullen and was pale and trembling. Wynne approached the couple and laid hands on them both; Alistair perked up immediately, but Neria needed more than that.<p>

"I saw the tear that time," she said with a little smile. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Wynne replied gently.

"I thought so. I need to rest."

"Take your time."

I gave Alistair a questioning look.

He looked just a little peaked but answered the implied question like he was exhausted. "It's done."

Branka started wailing into her gag.

Neria looked up from where she'd collapsed and just nodded.

The wailing got louder.

* * *

><p>The golem made it across the bridge after Wynne ordered it to be slow and careful. Branka was (and still is) in an extremely uncooperative mood and refused to tell us how to open the passage she'd blocked. No problem; Wynne ordered the golem to open the passage. It simply put its fingers into some small indentations and rolled the stone aside.<p>

Branka was given a drink of water, choked on it because she was screaming, and ended up gagged again. We moved out and, unfortunately, had to cut through the broodmother's cavern. It was completely dead. The tentacles were limp, the head and torso had collapsed into the mountain of sloughing meat, and the smell was indescribable. Putrid, already rotting flesh belonging to the mother and a brood of stillborn genlocks. We tried to not stop breathing through our noses because if you breathe through your mouth you can _taste_ the smell. (Branka didn't have a choice and got off easy.)

But we got through and, after checking Caridin's map, made a left where we would've made a right to follow out the trail we'd followed in. We traveled for a little while then Alistair and Neria called a halt.

"Darkspawn," they agreed. "Everywhere."

We checked the map and decided on a direction, and we were off again and moving fast. At one point the Wardens pointed to a wall and said the bad guys were concentrated 'right there'; we moved faster. We cut down a couple small groups of darkspawn as we went, but turned a corner and ended up in an open area with way too many bad guys.

"That way!" Neria yelled. "To the left!"

"Got it!" Alistair and I yelled back at the same time, and slammed into the darkspawn front just after a fireball exploded on it. We hacked our way into the burnt mass and then saw darkspawn literally flying away. Wynne had sent the golem to our right and the thing was just swimming through the darkspawn. They weren't smart enough to try swarming it, so the construct plowed through them while the rest of us cut our way to the comparative safety of the doorway Neria'd aimed us at. The golem anchored our flank and came out relatively unscathed. Even after it had a fireball explode in its face.

We backed into the corridor and the golem backed in behind us. The back rank took down some darkspawn then Wynne backed the golem through the doorway.

I had a ding moment. "Drop the door!"

"What?" somebody yelled.

I spun around. "Wynne! Make the golem wreck the door!"

"Already doing it!"

Crashes, clouds of dust, and flying rock ensued. Then it got quiet, and the golem thumped its way out of the debris.

If I didn't know how they're made I'd try to get one of my own.

* * *

><p>If you've never kicked an anthill go and try it. Just make sure you step back quick after you do.<p>

That's the best way I can describe Bownammar right now. The darkspawn are swarming and probably looking for the Wardens. We've taken the precaution of wrecking doors and tunnels and then trapping them with runes and wards so we probably won't get any nasty surprises from behind. So far it's worked.

We haven't been fighting constantly, but we haven't been getting much down time, either. Every time we stop for a few minutes the darkspawn in the area start moving our way. A couple times we've heard them digging at the walls trying to get to us.

At least Branka's not stupid and/or crazy enough to want to be captured by them. We pulled her gag but left her cuffed. She hasn't said much but I don't think she looks scared, but then she's not hindering our progress either. We'll see how that works out.

* * *

><p>Got overrun by darkspawn a bit ago. We'd just made another fighting, shoulder-to-shoulder retreat, and actually ended up with some breathing room, so we had the golem start collapsing a doorway behind us. But both Wardens could feel darkspawn real close; right behind the walls.<p>

The door got sealed all right, but before we could get moving again there was a crash, a cloud of dust, and darkspawn everywhere. Good thing most of them aren't wearing armor and have crap equipment, because we were overrun and everybody was fighting alone. No strategy, no tactics, just kill something and then find something else to kill and hope it's not a friendly.

I ended up face-to-face with Morrigan. We recognized each other just as I caught her staff on my shield. "Behind you!" we both yelled at the same time.

I did a one-eighty, blocked, bashed, and stabbed, then did another one-eighty. Morrigan was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Morrigan?" Nobody answered, so I killed another darkspawn and did a three-sixty. "Oh, shit!"

I don't know if it's a biological imperative on their part or the Archdemon is somehow commanding them to do it, but there were a couple of darkspawn trying to drag her away through the collapsed wall. She was putting up a fight but needed help. I don't know if I was the only one who saw her, but I was definitely the only one close enough to do anything about it. "I'm going after Morrigan!" I yelled. Don't know if anyone heard me.

Morrigan was panicked, obviously; who wants to be dragged away and turned into a breeder? Or, if she's lucky, just eaten alive?

I cut at another darkspawn, shoved a wildly kicking Branka out of my way, and sprinted the fifteen feet or so towards Morrigan. I nearly tripped over her staff as I slammed into the group. Darkspawn squealed and Morrigan cried out, but she was loose. There was a quick, brutal little melee, and I was staring at a wild-eyed Morrigan. If circumstances had been different I might have appreciated her top being mostly off.

"You came for me." Morrigan's voice was disbelieving. Relieved? Awed?

I don't know. Didn't care at the time, either. "You okay? Let's-"

The wall I was next to collapsed and more darkspawn stumbled out. Morrigan tried a spell but it didn't hit too hard and she and I both went down under the rush. I stabbed, punched, kicked, and clawed my way out of the pile. Morrigan was being dragged away by her foot. I brained a darkspawn with its own sword (I'd lost mine by then) and grabbed Morrigan's hand. It was tug of war time with Morrigan as the rope. And the darkspawn that had her was strong; it was pulling me and her with regular jerks. I couldn't see the thing; it was in the shadows.

"Don't let go!"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes!"

I did let go, but timed it so whatever was pulling Morrigan overbalanced and gave me some momentum. I scrambled forward and charged into the darkness. I don't think I stepped on Morrigan but I did run into something large and meaty. I had armor; I'm pretty sure it didn't. But I was fighting in the dark and ended up on the ground again. Another hand-to-hand melee ensued; my armor saved my life at least twice.

A light flared up and Morrigan yelled. "Stay down!"

Cold burned into me even through the bodies on top of me. Every joint felt a winter's morning and I ached all over and then something cool and wet and _wrong _splashed into my helmet and I gagged.

_Don'tswallowdon'tswallowdon'tswallow…_

Strong, heavy hands pulled me loose and someone slapped a sword (mine, it turned out) into my free hand. Safa and Oghren pulled me out of the pile while Morrigan covered them.

"Move, witch! Come on, shaper!"

The four of us staggered back to the main group. Wynne was marking the floor as we ran. "Right through here!" We followed her instructions and skidded to a stop.

I yanked my helmet off before anyone could say anything. "Morrigan-" She was right in front of me so I asked her. "-can you make me puke?"

She hadn't quite recovered her composure. "What?"

"Throw up, vomit, regurgitate. Can you make me do that?"

"Yes, but-"

"Do it!" She hit me with some black energy and I went to my knees. Seemed like everything I'd eaten in the last week was on the way out. When I finally dry heaved I felt her hands on my head and the nausea just disappeared. Handy trick, that. "I'm okay!"

Somebody dumped water on my

* * *

><p><em>AN: Bit of a long chapter. Hope you enjoyed it._

_On a personal note the younger son is enjoying summer camp, and the older son will soon be an official math geek with a piece of paper to prove it!_

_Story shout out: please head over to_ **Tainted** _by_ **Riptide Monzarc.** _It's a darker take on the elf mage origin than one normally encounters, and I heartily approve of the direction it's taking._

**cactusraven:** _excellent catch on the Champion specialization! It was a happy semi-accident; I'd already very-rough-drafted a scene where Oghren teaches Jeff to be a berserker, but it just didn't feel right at the time and definitely didn't work by the time I got there._

_My DA:O power lineup is a pair of mages with cones of cold, Leliana, and a heavy melee fighter. If I use a mage character I'll go without the warrior and just use CoC to keep all the bad guys frozen in place. The RP lineup is more subjective and really depends on what I'm in the mood for._

**GlysMari: **_good metaphor; both interesting and apt. My problem is I like filler too much and tend to get distracted by it. Sten's an interesting character to write but I haven't had the opportunity to give him much screen time lately._

**war sage & rifleman101:** _thank you!_

**Shinkansen:** _good catch on the timeline with the Wardens and Caridin. I have no excuses for that. And I think you did an excellent job on interpreting the dwarven attitude towards Paragons._

**SnowHelm:** _Jeff thought taking down Branka before she could activate those golems was best choice._

**Oplindenfep:** _there are plans to meet Shale. And sorry about the Anvil._

**Gillian Grayson:** _excellent call with the shotguns. And give the dwarves a few years to experiment with them and who knows what they'll be doing? Too bad Caridin won't be able to._

**Phygmalion: **_again, Jeff didn't want to fight those golems. And Duncan as a darkspawn general? That's pretty twisted. In both good and bad ways._

_I always wondered why Caridin just didn't destroy the Anvil himself. Maybe he could have done it while still flesh and blood; maybe not. It did take a while to sort out the headcanon for that, and even then it didn't make much sense to me. But do you happen to remember the title of the fic you mentioned?_

**AD Lewis:** _Neria's fireball just kind of leapt off the keyboard, but you're right: she is turning out to be a badass. And good guess on the Anvil._

**AgoTheTiny:** _Caridin doesn't have any reason to conceal any modifications he'd make to any equipment, but he's also so talented that he might do a better job than even he expects._

**great northern one:** _I'm planning to drive up to Fort Sill to see the offspring graduate basic training. And since he's a brony I might even take him a stuffed Rainbow Dash as a present. I'll make sure to give to him in front of the drill sergeant._


	73. Trouble in Paradise

Sorry about that. More darkspawn and all. I'm sure you understand. So to continue:

Somebody dumped water on my head and I watched and felt the thin black fluid drain off my head and face.

"Darkspawn blood?" Alistair asked as he pulled me to my feet.

"Yeah. Hope I got it all."

"Me, too. You're a mess, though."

One of Wynne's runes exploded. "Come on!" somebody shout so we turned as group and ran down another hallway. I guess we made a good choice because it got narrow and turned up. We ended up on an exposed ledge that ran along a chasm.

The golem dropped another tunnel right behind us; having Wynne control the thing was a good choice because she hasn't been able to exhaust herself by just casting. Still, Sten took her arm and helped her move out. We went a few hundred more yards and crossed a narrow bridge (golem last of course); Morrigan threw a few hexes on it. We took off again.

We heard the hexes and runes popping off, so Neria sent a fireball blindly back the way we'd come. Both Wardens relaxed; we had enough lead that the golem was able to bring down a short stretch of tunnel.

"Here you go, witch!" Oghren tossed Morrigan his flask.

I pulled off a gauntlet and stared at the wound I'd thought was there. "Shit!" I had a deep, bloody gash on my forearm just below the scarring from an earlier cut. (I've got a small gap in the armor in the same place on both arms. It's not Wade's fault; I've lost a lot of weight since he fitted me, but I gotta get that fixed.) "Morrigan! Hit me!"

I held out the wounded arm. Morrigan paused from rinsing her own wounds and scoured mine with a liquid arc welder. When my eyes rolled forward again Wynne was finishing closing up the cut. I nodded thanks to her and tried to finish decontaminating myself as best I could.

Alistair suddenly appeared in front of me. He had his gauntlets off and reached for my head and arm.

"What-"

"I'm trying to see if you've been Tainted," he whispered urgently.

Oh shit. "Yeah, I'm a bit worried about that myself." I waited very impatiently as he checked me and finally ran out of what little patience I had. "Talk to me, man."

"I…think you're well, but Neria!"

Neria'd been giving everybody a once over but she spun around and tripped over Cullen at Alistair's voice. He took a few seconds to explain the problem then Neria took over the exam. She stared at me with worried eyes as she pushed healing energy into me and ran her hands over what little bit of me the armor exposed. Finally she sighed, obviously relieved. "I think you're okay," Neria said quietly.

I echoed the sigh; Alistair echoed me.

And I'm feeling okay.

* * *

><p>"I owe you many thanks."<p>

"You're welcome."

"I am indebted to you."

"No, you're not."

"You did not have to come for me."

"Yes, I did. We're a team, remember?"

"Be that as it may, you acted when others did not."

"I acted-"

"Silence! You acted. That is enough, and it will not be forgotten."

* * *

><p>"Twenty feet!" Neria screamed in frustration. "Twenty rutting feet!"<p>

We'd made what we thought was a wrong turn somewhere that we thought might work out in our favor when we saw the great chasm ahead, but the hope ended up being misplaced. The path we were on ended at a broken bridge. We could look to our right see another bridge (a whole one) shadowed in the distance, but no obvious paths leading to or from it. And Neria was right; there was about a twenty-foot gap taken out of the bridge's center. Definitely too far to jump, but…

"We have rope, no?" Zevran asked.

Sten shook his head. "Nothing long enough." He actually sounded disappointed.

"Just a minute," I said. I dropped my pack and dug deep and pulled out 99 feet of rope.

"I had forgotten that," Leliana said.

Alistair clanked me on the back. "Me too!"

Oghren barked his laugh. "That bit of thread?"

Neria screamed again, but this time in triumph.

* * *

><p>"Twenty feet!" Neria screamed in frustration. "Twenty rutting feet!"<p>

Morrigan had simply shifted into a raven, flown across the gap, unshifted, and tied one end of the nylon rope to a seemingly solid pillar. We tried tying it off on a pillar on our side but the stone cracked and started pulling loose. The next solid pillar was too far away, so we spliced every useable length or rope we had together and still ended up short on our side.

Branka started laughing. At us, I'm sure.

Oghren gave her an evil glare but spoke to the group. "So now what?"

"We go around," Safa said. "Don't know that I trust that little rope anyway."

I waved at Sten. "It'll hold up the big guy here, armor and all."

"There's no rutting way."

"If he says the rope will support me, it will."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Sten narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps we could dangle the Paragon over the chasm with it. Would that be a sufficient test?"

Branka yelled from where we'd sat her against the railing. "Sod off!"

Alistair chuckled at that but quickly became serious. "I think I see darkspawn." He pointed off towards the other bridge. There were specks moving about.

"They're not close," Neria added. "I don't feel them."

"But there's a lot of them."

Leliana's voice rang out. "Perhaps we could swing across."

* * *

><p>It would have been a lot more dramatic and exciting if we had to make a fighting escape and the golem had sacrificed itself (by falling into the depths with a dozen darkspawn crawling over it) to give us the last few seconds we needed to get everybody across.<p>

Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how much you like action) the most exciting moment we had was watching Sten swing stoically and ponderously across the gap (sans armor). Or maybe it was watching Morrigan fly up and down from the spot she'd tied off the rope. Or even the groan of despair Cullen let out when we rigged up a harness for him; the howl he let out when he swung across raised the hair on every inch of my body. And when we reused the harness on Branka her howl could've been heard in Orzammar.***

But we did lose the golem. There was no way the rope could hold it so Wynne told it to 'stay here and defend yourself' then took her turn on the rope. She landed with a laugh but has 'absolutely no desire to do that again.'

I don't either. Maybe a zip line, though.

And finally Zevran swung across and alit on the bridge as if he'd simply walked across the gap.

"Heh," Oghren grunted at him. "We all made it. Pay up!"

Safa just smacked him upside the helmet.

* * *

><p>"Missy?"<p>

Neria looked up from where she was checking my arm again. "Safa?"

The dwarven woman glanced back and forth between Neria and me. "What's to happen with the Paragon?"

We looked over to where Branka was quietly eating under Alistair's and Wynne's supervision. Since a bit after crossing the chasm the bluster's gone out of her. She's pretty much just walked, rested, and done anything else we'd told her without any fuss at all. And just after the chasm? She'd snagged a dagger and tried to stab Alistair, but couldn't manage it with her hands cuffed, and then she got her head cuffed by Alistair. Anyway…

Neria looked back to Safa. "I don't know. Really; I don't. Maybe we'll figure something out when we get back to the Legion."

Safa shifted slightly, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. But she finally said, "If you say so," in that quiet voice of hers. "Cullen, come on; I think I've got a bit of dried meat for you."

The Mabari smacked his lips wetly in anticipation and trotted along behind the dwarf.

Neria watched them go then went back to my arm. The fresh wound is healed nicely; I've got a pair of clean but obvious scars running perfectly parallel across the meaty part of my forearm. Neria ran a careful finger across one then the other and made the new one itch with a touch of healing energy. "So what do we do with her?"

"I don't know. Don't look at me that way. Really; I don't." I glanced over to where Oghren was using his axe to emphasize something he had to say to Alistair, who in turn kept flinching away from the blade. "What did Oghren say?"

"He said Paragons are pretty much above Orzammar law, but nothing like this has ever happened before. He doesn't know if the Assembly will revoke her status for losing her house or honor her for finding the Anvil. Or both." Neria's face hardened. "Or what they'll do to us for destroying it."

I sighed. Heavily, and partly from relief. "I don't think we have to worry about that; you did it because Caridin wanted you to."

"And a Paragon's word is absolute." Neria spat out the words. "If I had my way I'd've dropped her off that bridge, but Oghren wouldn't ever forgive me." She suddenly laughed. "You know, for a crazy red-haired dwarven warrior he's really kind of a sweetheart."

"Hey! I heard that! Sodding Warden."

"Get bent!" Neria yelled back.

"Heh." Oghren went back to making Alistair nervous. "Now listen up, pretty boy…."

* * *

><p>Kardol and the other Legion officers stared at Branka with a mixture of respect, horror, awe, and disgust. The respect because she's their Living Paragon. The horror because we've still got her in cuffs and you just don't treat a Paragon that way. The awe because she's somehow managed to survive the Deep Roads for two years. And the disgust because we briefed the Legion's commanders on how we'd found her.<p>

We were stared at with a mixture of respect, anger, and disbelief. The respect because we found the Paragons. Anger because we'd destroyed the Anvil and were treating Branka the way we are, and disbelief because except for Branka they're not really sure if we're telling the truth, or at least all of it.

But it didn't hurt when Branka started ranting at Kardol when we dragged her in front of him. I think he was ready to gag her himself, but decided to treat Branka according to her station. But Kardol had also taken a few minutes to get a back-brief from Safa before he started the meeting. I'm not sure he knew (or knows) who or what to believe.

"Warden," he said, "please release the Paragon. I'll take responsibility for her."

Neria was rubbing her head. "Zevran, release her."

The elf patted himself. "I seem to have misplaced the key. It's a most unfortunate circumstance."

Neria looked back to Kardol. "Sorry." She didn't tell him she was carrying the key. "But take a look at the manacles; they've got Caridin's mark on them. And Sten, show them the crown."

"Dirt and sand," Kardol said sharply. "Get somebody in here that can pick a lock. Sorry, Warden, but the Paragon gets released. Like I said-"

"Commander," Neria shot back, "if she gets released you keep her away from my people." Neria's words were as sharp as Kardol's, and her jaw was twitching. But she was in full on pissed-off Warden mode.

"I'll go where I want-" Branka started.

"And I'll burn you from the toes up," Neria snarled.

"I will help," Morrigan added.

"Warden! Para-"

Kardol stopped short as Sten pulled the crown out from his pack. The remaining dwarves fell silent as they took in the gaudy masterpiece. Sten placed it on the commander's table and Kardol and his subordinates took a closer look.

"That can't be solid…." "The maker's mark matches the one on the cuffs." "Paragon or not, that's ugly." "Warden, if what you're saying's true…."

Neria rubbed her forehead again. "Why won't you just believe us?"

"Well," Alistair said, "it is hard to believe."

Leliana bumped him the same time I did.

"Right. Not helping. But," he continued even though he was turning red from the attention he was getting, "we are charged with returning Branka to Orzammar to help settle the succession."

Kardol looked annoyed at the interruption. "I know that." He turned back to Neria. "Now, Warden-"

Alistair kept going. He cleared his throat nervously but waved off Oghren's flask. "We would certainly be willing to let a Legion detachment escort…Branka back to Orzammar, but we'll take the crown ourselves. And turn it over to the Assembly. So they can choose the king. With it."

Kardol nodded. "Warden, that's-"

Neria interrupted. "Alistair, could I speak with you for a moment? Privately?"

"Uh…."

"No, you don't have a choice."

Neria dragged her fellow Warden out into the hallway while the rest of stood around and stared awkwardly at each other.

Except for Branka. "Commander. You seriously aren't going to listen to these…people, are you?"

Kardol bowed. Slightly. "Paragon, this is a most unusual situation."

"There's nothing unusual about it!" Branka hissed. "I am your Paragon! Get me out of these manacles and do as I say!"

"Where's that lockpick?" Kardol shouted then gave us a 'please help me' look. "Can't one of you open the lock?"

"No," Sten answered.

"But-"

"No."

Both Leliana and Zevran shrugged. I did too when Kardol tried to stare me down. Safa has a horrible poker face; she shrugged as well but shook her head and swallowed hard. Oghren just took a hit off his flask. Wynne and Morrigan double-teamed Kardol with Senior Enchanter stares. Even Cullen managed to look nonchalant.

"Rutting topsiders." Kardol deliberately looked at Safa when he said that.

She swallowed again but kept her silence.

"Kardol!" Neria called as she walked back in. She was actually smiling. (And Alistair was beaming.) "You have a deal! But _only_ if you promise to keep Branka away from us until we leave. And give us a couple days' head start. Wakings. You know what I mean. And we'll take the crown to Orzammar."

* * *

><p>"Okay, Alistair, what was that all about?"<p>

He actually looked embarrassed but went ahead and answered. "I was thinking about the crown. I mean, Caridin gave it to us so we could take it back to Orzammar, and Branka would use it to select a king. But Oghren told me he couldn't stand to be around Branka so I started thinking that maybe if we took the crown back ourselves we could select the king."

I just stared at Alistair for a moment, and then facepalmed. I'd honestly been thinking we'd need to drag Branka all the way back. And then trying to figure out what we'd do with her when we got there. I been so wrapped up in the alternatives that the original solution hadn't even occurred to me.

Alistair started babbling nervously. "You know; like Caridin suggested. When he gave us the crown. Oh, Maker, I knew it was a bad idea."

What had Caridin said? "Place it upon the one most worthy." He didn't say anything about having Branka do it. I should have noticed his words but Branka's a bit of an attention-getter.

I peeked out from between my fingers. "No, it was a brilliant idea."

Alistair grinned cautiously. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. We don't have to haul Branka with us and we can get out of the damned Deep Roads that much quicker." I reached out and clapped him on the arm. "Good thinking."

Alistair's face was turning lava-red, but he kept grinning. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"Er, Jeff?" Alistair's face had changed from happy to concerned. "When Caridin was talking to us – to me and Neria - he was worried about – how did he say it? About some people wanting to use the Anvil for their own ends."

I felt my face heating up a little. "Let me guess: my name came up?"

"'The hoo-mon of the book,' he called you. But don't feel bad; you're in good company. He also mentioned Branka-"

"Of course."

"-Morrigan-"

I rolled my eyes and nodded my head. "Not surprised."

"-and Sten."

That one did surprise me.

"But when he talked about you and Sten he said you both think the dwarves need him and the Anvil to fight off the darkspawn. That is what you'd really want it for, right?"

I nodded again. Strongly this time. "I'll pinky swear on it if you want."

Alistair looked relieved. "That's what I was hoping, and that's what Neria told him. But then he said the Anvil's too dangerous, and-" Alistair shrugged, changed his expression to grim, and finished. "You saw the rest."

"Yeah." I tapped my head. "Hurt like hell, too."

Alistair nodded. "Sorry about that. And for Wynne." He snuck a look around and dropped his voice. "Not so much for Morrigan."

* * *

><p>Kardol finally found his locksmith but by then he'd agreed to Neria's terms. And despite Branka's claims to the contrary we'd somehow managed to misplace her equipment. I have the feeling we'll find it when we're day or so down the road to Orzammar.<p>

And speaking of equipment:

Safa's quiet voice came from beside me. "Shaper. Take a look."

"What's-"

I stopped talking and stared at the pair of dwarves standing a few feet away. Identical sets of massive armor concealed both of them. Dark gray metal with geometric patterns cut into it, gloves and boots that look like something off a gundam, and helmets that cover the entire head except for slits across the eyes.

I focused on the left-hand dwarf. "Nice armor, Safa." I nodded to the right. "You too, Oghren. Where'd you get it?"

"Ah, how'd you know?"

"Safa probably wouldn't have a red beard sticking out of her helmet."

"Sodding [dwarvish] too rutting smart…." Oghren turned around and stomped away like an angry trash can.

Safa flipped up her faceplate and gave me a sad smile. "Good luck on the road back to Orzammar, shaper."

"You're not coming with us?"

"Kardol wants me to escort the Paragon. Says it'll be an honor, but I'm not so sure. He did say I'd be honored for meeting the Ancient Paragon, but I'm pretty sure that won't happen." She punctuated that with a sharp (for her), "Don't ask why."

I'd been about to, but cut off the question. "Okay, then." I held out a hand. "It's been good having you along. Good luck, and be careful out there."

Safa stared at my hand for a couple seconds then said, "Right." She carefully took my bare hand in her armored one and gave it a pump. "Keep me in your memories, and may the stone always be beneath your feet."

* * *

><p>"Rotate your arm again," Wynne said quietly. She had her hands pressed gently against my right chest and shoulder.<p>

I extended my right arm and rotated it backwards. I got a nice loud click each time it passed one o'clock.

Wynne shook her head and moved around so she was touching my left side. "And this one again."

The left arm's in pretty good shape, but Wynne hmmed anyway and gave me a dose of itchy warmth. A grinding sensation that I hadn't noticed was no longer noticeable.

"If you are not well you should have our leader examine you rather than the boss seraboss."

Wynne didn't look up as she switched back to my right arm. "In case you'd forgotten this boss seraboss taught our leader how to heal."

"Our leader is not boss seraboss; our leader is a Grey Warden."

Wynne made a motion, so I started rotating my right arm again. Wynne pushed some healing into me as she answered Sten. "And she also happens to be a boss seraboss."

"No. Grey Wardens can be trusted. Boss seraboss cannot. Our leader is a Grey Warden. And she commands our presence." Sten turned around and walked out before either of us could answer.

Wynne chuckled as Sten left, but kept the energy flowing. "Neria's made an impression on him."

I chuckled myself. "I don't think Sten can conceive of her being a Grey Warden and a mage. And I think the nice pointy bit on the end of her staff finally helped him make up his mind."

Wynne gave me a few more seconds of juice before we headed to the meeting. I walked in bare-chested and right behind Wynne. Zevran raised an eyebrow but before he could open his mouth I rolled my shoulder hard and got a lovely pop out of it.

Zevran smiled lazily. "A pity."

Neria frowned at me. "I thought we fixed that."

I shook my head. "Nothing stays fixed at my age."

She twitched a corner of her mouth, but also got right to the point. "Change of plans. We need to leave now. Kardol…suggested it'd be a good idea after…well…." She nodded towards Leliana.

The bard held up an arm; there was another cut in the leather sleeve protecting it. "A Legionnaire attacked me but a short while ago. He was angered at our treatment of Branka." Red shrugged from her shoulders to her hands. "I am well. He is not," she finished matter-of-factly.

"I was afraid of this," Oghren growled. "Crazy or not, a Paragon's a Paragon." He raised his flask. "Don't worry, you sods; I stand with you." Drink. "And just so you know: most of the Legion – and just about every woman - stands with us. But too many of the blighters don't." Another drink was followed by some dwarvish grumbling.

"Kardol's got them in – well, mostly in hand," Neria continued. "But he doesn't know how long he will. So that rest we were planning on…." She shook her head. "Go get geared up; we move as soon as everybody's ready."

A chorus of assent followed and everybody started moving. Except for me and Wynne; Neria called us back. "Are you okay?"

"It's his-" Wynne started.

"Shoulder's bothering me again. And my knee is achy, too." I shrugged. "Would've liked the downtime, but…we do what we gotta do, right?"

Instead of answering Neria put her hand on my chest directly above where I'm getting the pops and channeled energy into me.

"Careful," Wynne cautioned. She had her hand on my shoulder blade.

"I know," Neria answered distractedly.

I felt the warm itching suddenly turned to painful heat. "Ow! What-"

"Hush!" Wynne scolded. "And don't move!" I felt more power come from her and she muttered, "Right there!"

"I know," Neria said again.

I didn't move, but something inside me did. I don't know which parts were involved, but bones and tendons aren't supposed to do that on their own. It felt like (but fortunately wasn't) a chestburster making itself comfortable. Then the heat and the pain receded and turned back into the itchy warmth, and my shoulder felt like I'd just finished a hard set at the bench press. And I couldn't move it.

No problem for the mages. Neria suddenly wrapped her arms around my chest; Wynne grabbed my elbow and pulled up and back hard and fast while Neria held on. There was a crack that echoed around the small chamber. I jumped. Not because it hurt, but because it sounded like it should have.

"Better?" Wynne asked.

I took the arm for a quick test drive. No pain, no stiffness, no clicking or popping. "Huh."

Neria pushed me away with a smile. "We had to do that for the Templars all the time. Well, the ones that trusted us enough. Now let's see that knee."

* * *

><p>We moved out as directed and planned. Kardol was kind enough to mark our maps; we're following routes he uses to communicate with Orzammar. These routes are regularly used and patrolled by the Legion so we made excellent time. I'm not sure how long we actually walked, but we stopped for one long rest and now we're on our second. We ran into a couple small groups of darkspawn but other than that nothing worth noting.<p>

At least until Neria's coughing woke me up.

"Go easy on that, missy."

"Maker! You think I'd be used to it by now."

"Heh. You humans are always thinking that." I heard glugging that could only mean Oghren was drinking.

"But after that I don't have any idea."

"But you said Redcliffe? Drink, shaper?"

I'd pushed myself up and stared sourly at the mage and dwarf. I just shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I thought we were being quiet."

"Until the coughing you were."

Oghren kept his focus. "What's it like?"

Neria'd lost hers. "What's what like?"

"Redcliffe."

Neria shrugged. "Don't know. I've never been there."

"Shaper?"

"He probably hasn't either."

I pushed myself to my feet. "I haven't."

"So have any of you sods been there?"

Neria answered. "I think Alistair lived there for a while. Before he went to be a Templar."

"I know a little about it, but I haven't been there." I plopped my tired ass down next to the pair and dug through my pack in a vain search for something interesting to eat. I finally settled on a dried biscuit that had probably been in there since Orzammar.

"Do you want some tea for that or will I have to fix your teeth?"

I tapped the biscuit on the rock. Both came out of the encounter undamaged. "Tea, please."

Oghren snickered. "So what's it like?"

"Rock hard."

"Not me, you sod!" The dwarf poked me amiably with his axe handle. "I meant Redcliffe!"

"Well, it's got cliffs, and they're red-"

Neria giggled.

The axe got reversed and lifted. "Don't make me use the other end of this thing!"

"Seriously, I don't know much about it. It's on a lake, so they probably eat a lot of fish. That's really all I know." Except for the localized zombie apocalypse, of course.

Oghren glared at Neria.

She shrugged. "Alistair told me the Arl's name is Eamon, and I think I read in a book somewhere that they catch fish for a living. So I guess they eat fish, too."

"Fish, huh?" Oghren hopped off the rock he'd been sitting on. "I like fish. Probably even topsider fish. Where's pretty boy? I got questions for him." He trotted off towards our guard post.

We watched him go then Neria handed me the warm cup of tea. "Careful. It's sleepy tea."

I took a deep swig then plunged the biscuit into it. "Just what I need. So what was that all about? Oghren planning to come with us?"

Neria nodded and reached for the cup. "That's exactly it. He said Branka's crazy, and we are too, but at least we're his kind of crazy." She pulled the biscuit out of the tea, drank, and dropped it back in before handing me back the cup. "He says he wants to get out of Orzammar before she makes the city crazy – well, crazier, he said – and see the topside before the darkspawn ruin it."

I tapped the biscuit lightly against the cup and then harder against a rock. I sighed, drank, and dropped the biscuit back in the tea.

Neria kept speaking. "He thinks we ought to get back to Orzammar, drop that crown on the first head we see, and not slow down until we see sunlight."

"He makes good sense."

"Oh, I think so too. I'm tired of not seeing anything but stone-" Neria suddenly leaned forward and stared at me intently. Her voice was soft but urgent. "I was afraid I'd die down here, and now I'm afraid I won't. You know what I mean."

I did, so I nodded.

"I don't care what Alistair or any other Grey Warden says; I'm not coming back down here. Ever." She patted one of her pockets; I think it was subconsciously.

"That might be a tough promise to keep." Damn biscuit still wasn't soft.

Neria took the cup and applied a little flame to it. "Will you help me keep it?"

I stared blankly at her for a moment while I tried to come up with an answer. I started with the simple one. "Yes, but-" I shook my head and switched to complicated. "Look, that's a…Grey Warden thing, and I don't wanna come between you and Alistair-"

"You haven't."

"Then maybe you should be having this discussion with Alistair."

"I'd rather not. He's-" Neria shook her head and handed me the cup. "He's a good man, and a good friend, but he doesn't-" Another head shake. "I'd rather not."

There wasn't much tea left and the biscuit seemed impervious to it. I shrugged and pulled it out of the cup. "Yeah. I understand."

"So will you help?"

Sigh. "If I can." I pulled my arm back to throw the biscuit somewhere and was rewarded with a nice little snap from my shoulder.

"Didn't we just fix that?"

"What did I say about things not staying fixed?"

Neria relaxed and smiled. "Let me take a look."

* * *

><p>[welcoming hiss]<p>

"How you doing?"

[noncommittal hiss]

"That good, huh?" I held up the M16. "Shall we?"

[resigned hiss]

Determined sigh. "Let's go find Amy."

Thing and I headed down the path. I watched carefully as the walls grew out of the floor and reached up and wrapped around the corridor and eventually came together at the ceiling to put me in a tunnel. I turned around and, like every other time so far, found myself in a tunnel disappearing in both directions.

But unlike every other time these tunnels seemed different. They didn't look different; they were the same Deep Roads analog that I've been dealing with since we've left Orzammar, but they felt different. Like I was being watched, and not in the usual way. And sounded different. Thing and I both spun around at what sounded like flesh slapping against rock, but didn't see anything.

[cautioning hiss]

I set the rifle for auto and tossed a mental coin. "That way," although either direction seemed good.

We kept hearing the quiet smacks that might have been footsteps, and more than once we jumped about only to just miss something disappearing into the shadows. I fired a burst at something, but I don't think I hit anything. I just heard the bullets moan as they ricocheted down the corridor.

And as those moans faded I heard other ones. Soft, hungry moans that didn't really care what the meal was as long as there was a meal.

Even in the Fade I was getting a chill. "Let's back up."

[affirming hiss]

One step. Two. Three.

Hell was unleashed.

Dozens of darkspawn screamed in an apocalyptic chorus and boiled out of nooks and crannies that just weren't there an instant before.

[freaked out hiss]

"Oh shit!"

I brought the rifle up to my shoulder and emptied the magazine. I dropped the empty and slapped another one in and emptied that one as well. Thing let out an eardrum-rupturing screech and I heard a meaty impact and squelching noises from behind me. A third magazine's worth of bullets went downrange, but I'd aimed too high for the genlocks that rushed me.

I went over backwards as the little bastards ran into me with claws flailing and teeth gnashing. I buttstroked one but the others bowled me over into Thing. I kicked and punched and even bit one of them and got kicked and punched and probably bit in return, but somehow got enough bearing to shoot one in the face. Thing suddenly appeared above me, bleeding non-acidic gray blood, and yanked me to my feet. My good shoulder screamed and I dropped the rifle into the melee.

"Oh, hell no!"

My right hand came up in concert with my left and I aimed almost at my feet and pulled the trigger on the new rifle. Only thirty rounds again, but reloading's a snap when a magazine's just _there_ when you need it. Sixty more rounds and I had a bit of breathing room.

And then purple light flared and a taloned hand clamped down on my right forearm. Blood, mine I think, oozed out from between the fingers.

"What have you done?"

Amy looked like hell in both senses of the word. The red hair was gone, replaced by horns, but the human face was still there and covered with blood of various sorts, probably including mine. Her leonine teeth were bared at me, but not meant for me, because she turned and hissed at a darkspawn before ripping its face off with her free hand. The 'Keep Calm' t-shirt was ripped and stained with unknowable fluids and only mostly concealed a massive bust and industrial grade nipple piercings.

"How the fuck should I know?"

I switched the rifle to my left hand and tried to bring it to bear on the demon, but Thing got there faster. He was still too late; his insectoid hand reached for Amy just as her other hand came around and caught my head. I could feel the tips of five gore-drenched claws only just touching my scalp.

"Ah-ah," Amy said.

Thing froze and hissed.

I froze and snarled.

"What," Amy asked calmly but firmly, "have you done?" Her eyes were still human, but they glowed with what I think was fear.

I panted for a moment. "How. The fuck. Should I know?"

Amy turned her head; Thing and I followed her gaze. There was a purplish barrier stretched across the corridor and a mass of darkspawn pressing into it. I think every one of them was looking at me. And then the obvious thing happened: the force field flickered out and the darkspawn fell towards us.

Amy let me go and sprayed them with a cone of fire. I ignored the rotted BBQ smell and fired over Thing into the crowd. He urgently glided forward and into the monsters that were left over, but Amy threw another cone of fire that caught my Fade buddy along with the bad guys.

"Fucking bitch!" I'd've turned the rifle on her but there were more darkspawn to shoot.

But then there weren't, and Thing turned around gave off a gloating hiss. Or maybe it was an 'it's cool' hiss, because the fire hadn't seemed to hurt him.

Amy smiled like the predator she is. "You have much to learn of the bishgu."

[warning hiss]

Amy's head snapped towards Thing. "I've no desire to harm him!" She looked at me then back to Thing. "After all, I still wish to claim him." Then she turned fully to me. "You must awaken. And quickly."

"But-"

[hiss]

"Now!"

There was a flash and a clap of thunder and I felt something warm and wet and sticky on my arm. I was panting, but there was something panting right next to me. I rolled away while scrabbling about for a weapon and caught my eyes on Cullen's sad ones. I looked down at my arm and saw nothing more sinister than a lot of drool.

I let out a shaky and very relieved sigh and worked my mouth to try to get the adrenaline flavor out and some wet in. It took me a couple minutes, and I sat there as quietly as I could listening to the other sleepers, and the just audible whispers and soft movements of those awake on guard duty. I finally gave the dog a crooked smile and croaked, "Sorry about that."

I got even sadder doggy eyes and a put-out groan in response.

"I said I was sorry." I crawled to my feet. "Let me get a cup of tea and you can use me for a pillow again. That okay?"

[happy huff]

"Shh. Don't wanna wake anybody up."

[soft apologetic whine]

"But let me do this first." I found my knife and made a reality check.

Reality? Check.

* * *

><p><em>AN: ***although I have done some 550-cord stress tests and can tell you both fun and embarrassing stories about how they turned out, please note that these are professional characters working under controlled conditions and the strict supervision of a stunt writer. If you're interested in trying something like this yourself please do so after consulting a professional. Or at least watching some painful videos on YouTube._

_My sincere thanks go out to everybody who's added _**MoN**_ to their favorites and alerts, or are even just sitting back and reading when it pops up. I truly appreciate the time you've taken to follow the story so far. And, as always, big thanks to all the reviewers!_

**Guest: **_I think you're the first one who's actually known the book I've taken the "on the gripping hand" phrase from!_

**zillah1199:** _I totally agree, but I think that might have set off a different (but still epic) shitstorm with the dwarves._

**Shahrazade:** _thank you! And as you've seen things have been slowly deviating from canon thanks to Jeff's butterfly effects._

**So you want to be an Author:** _more dwarven reactions in this chapter, and_ MINOR SPOILER _more to come._

**SnowHelm:** _it only seemed to make sense that the Anvil exists partially in the Fade even if the dwarves can't normally get to it. And destroying it would of course have ripple effects through the Fade. As for Jeff's relationship with the Fade this chapter might have provided some clues. Believe or not I've known where that relationship's been going for a very long time, but Jeff's still trying to figure things out._

**Oplindenfep:** _that was a deliberate cut-off of the narrative at the end of the previous chapter; it just didn't work out as well as I'd like._

**Gillian Grayson:**_ Morrigan doesn't strike me as the type to breakdown, but she also doesn't strike me as the type to quite understand the concept of team bonding. Basically she comes across as selfish and just doesn't get the idea of self-sacrifice for any but the strongest of reasons._

**rifleman101****_:_**_ lots of interesting magitech ideas you've got there. Jeff's got a few of his own._

**Her Eternal Grimoire: **_somebody had asked if the broodmother was really dead. She sure was. And yes, you can taste odors. I won't elaborate._

**Dur'id the Druid:** _sorry about cutting the line off. Like I said, it was an experiment with the narrative that didn't work out the way I'd intended. Good call on the sane versus crazy Paragons, and as you saw having Branka alive is already causing problems. And I do appreciate the honest feedback._

**TheSecondOtherGuy, war sage, & Doombug:** _thanks for reading and reviewing! Glad you're enjoying the story!_

**Shinkansen:** _very kind words; thank you._ MINOR SPOILER: _Morrigan's got a bigger role to play in upcoming chapters. And Branka is causing problems._

**Phygmalion:** _Branka's gonna be a problem. Both in-story and from a writing perspective. Jeff didn't get a close look at whatever that was in the shadows, or if he did, he didn't tell me. _:D

**AD Lewis:** _I think everybody knows why Morrigan's so bitchy towards Alistair. It's my understanding that DA:O originally intended some companions to fall victim to the Taint, but they couldn't figure out a way to incorporate it into gameplay._ VERY MINOR SPOILER: _next chapter I'll be briefly discussing the countermeasures taken by the group to avoid the Taint._

_Oh, and my kids have trolls for parents. Hehe._

**Zgogery: **_sorry, but the golem had to be dropped off. Game balance issues…._


	74. Taint Nothin'

"I thought you had agreed to call upon one of us the next time you dreamt in the Fade." Morrigan's stare was cool.

"I did," I protested, "and that's what I was trying to do. I just ran into a fuckload of darkspawn first."

Neria's stare was concerned. "That sounds like the kind of nightmares I have. The last one-" She breathed deeply and set her jaw and stared at the rock floor.

Wynne gave Neria a sympathetic look but turned her attention to me. "And you say the demon helped you?"

"That's what I said."

"But only because it wishes to possess him. And that is the greater concern." Morrigan was still staring coolly.

"I know. ''Twould be most unpleasant-'"

"Do not mock me."

"I'm not mocking you; I've heard this from all three of you. And Alistair, too." He'd 'hate to have to drive a sword through' me. Don't blame him. He's a nice guy, but that wouldn't make his killing me any less unpleasant. For either of us.

"In this matter at least the Templar is correct."

"I agree," Wynne said, "but the more pressing question is what is Jeff to do?"

"He could stay in his bubble," Neria said.

"Rather than seek us out?" Morrigan asked. "'Twould be safer than his current course, but we would gain no answers."

"I could do without answers," Wynne replied. "At least until we get back to Orzammar."

Neria nodded at that. "And my dreams have been worse since we left Orzammar. Maybe being down here is finally getting to you, too."

I wasn't convinced, but gave her a, "Yeah, maybe."

"Perhaps," Morrigan said at the same time. "I must think on this." She turned and strutted away, and instead of enjoying the view I was wondering how much she knows but isn't saying.

The other ladies watched her go then turned back to me.

"Stay in your bubble," Neria said, and meant every word. She turned away and followed Morrigan.

"Stay there," Wynne agreed. "Morrigan might disagree, but answers can wait. But are you well? You look exhausted."

She reached for my forehead but I dodged her hand. "Not exhausted; just tired."

Wynne frowned at me. "Get some more sleep if you can. I'll make sure your watch is covered." She spun about and followed the other mages.

My eyes were heavy and achy and scratchy but I had to dig the damn book out and write about everything. First the time in the Fade, then the short talk with the mages, and finally this next little bit:

"You're fortunate, mio amico, to have the attentions of our magi bella."

I gave the elf a twisted smile. "It's not really the kind of attention I'd wanted. Definitely not the kind you're after."

Zevran gave me a twisted smile of his own. "It's true; the ladies have proven remarkably resistant to my charms." The smile turned into a grin and a wink. "But the rules are well understood, and some play the game, and sometimes the game brings smiles to faces." Another wink. "And smiles are a rare thing right now."

I felt my smile relax into something more genuine.

"That's a pleasant sight, mio amico. Now do as our matrona has said: put away your book and rest."

Oy. "You heard that?"

"Not all, but enough."

I'm definitely tired of the lack of privacy. "You know, the first thing I'm doing when I get back to Orzammar is taking a leak where nobody else can see me."

Zevran's grin got wider. "That is an _exellente_ goal, mio amico."

* * *

><p>I managed to get some more sleep but it's the kind where you close your eyes and then open them again a couple hours later with no sense of any time passing at all. Almost like you've been put under anesthesia. The kind of sleep where your body might be rested but your mind definitely isn't. But I've got my shit together and I'm ready to move out when everybody else is.<p>

LINE BREAK

"You dropped this." Sten held out my sword. His stare was accusing and reproving at the same time.

"I didn't drop it; it slipped." I didn't quite snatch the sword from his hand. "Thanks."

"You are welcome. But know that you still fought well without the blade."

I'd basically just started slamming the darkspawn with my shield and used my dagger on anything that got close enough. "Thanks again, I guess."

The giant nodded. "You are welcome. Again." He turned away.

And then it was Neria's turn. "Are you hurt?"

"A few more dings on the armor." But I shook my head with frustration. "And the damn shoulder's bothering me again."

Neria looked disbelieving.

"Seriously. It popped and hurt and I lost feeling in my hand for a couple seconds." And then my sword had gone skittering and clanging across the rocks.

Neria studied my armor then suddenly shoved my arm up. She reached in, made an 'eww' face as she touched the admittedly nasty padding in my armpit, and then concentrated. "Stop wiggling!"

I ground my teeth against the itchy tingling. "It tickles!"

"Hold still and I'll be done faster!"

"You sound like Wynne when you say that!"

Wrong thing to say. Neria changed the energy flow and dug her fingers into me. One or the other would have been okay to deal with but the two got me twitching. "Who's the Senior Enchanter?" she giggled.

"Gah!" I spasmed from Neria's attentions, but grit my teeth and held on.

"Who's the Senior-"

"Neria!" Wynne called and gave the younger mage The Stare. "Just take care of him!"

Neria wrinkled her nose at the older mage but the energy flow changed. I stopped twitching and actually sighed with relief as something _popped_ and the pressure in the shoulder let up. Neria nodded, seemingly satisfied, and yanked her hand out of my armpit.

"That should do it," she said. "Get cleaned up and I'll look at it again later." She looked at her hand, wrinkled her nose again, and went off in search of something clean enough to make a difference when she wiped it off.

* * *

><p>[surprised hiss]<p>

"Yeah, I know. I wasn't expecting to be here, either." I gave Thing a once-over; he looked okay. Not that it's that easy to tell. "You all right?"

[hiss, then a questioning hiss]

I looked around my safety bubble. I only saw the usual ruins, the weird clouds, and the road leading to wherever it leads. No sign of darkspawn, or demons, or anything else I thought I needed to worry about. "No, I think we'll stay right here for now."

[approving hiss]

"So," I said and held up a box, "chess?"

[disapproving hiss]

A time later I was doing a poor job of explaining opening theory when we heard the sound that raised hairs on my neck and caused Thing to hiss warningly and hunker down.

"I heard it!" I snapped.

The chess board was forgotten as I stood up and locked a round into the rifle. I heard the noise again; it was the growling, grunting _hrr-hrr_ that I've come to know all too well. And there was only one place it could be coming from. I looked down the road and saw a single hurlock standing on it. It cracked open its mouth and rumbled; even though it was a football field away I could still clearly see its teeth and hear the noise it made.

"No fucking around," I said to Thing and to myself. I raised the rifle, aimed, and squeezed off a shot that dropped the hurlock where it stood. I let out my breath and nodded but kept my eyes on the road. "Okay. Let's see if he's got friends."

[hiss]

He did. We sat and nervously waited for an endless few minutes and eventually, in the distance, I could see vaguely humanoid shapes jogging up the road. I started shooting as soon as I thought I could hit the single targets, but by the time the bunch passed the first hurlock's body (?) there was a pretty solid mass off in the distance.

[concerned hiss]

"Yeah, I know!" I was firing slowly but steadily and dropping my targets, but we were gonna be overrun soon. I was standing on the edge of my bubble; two more steps and I'd be safe, but I was worried about Thing.

[hiss]

I reloaded and waved at Thing and yelled, "Go!"

[questioning hiss]

"Can you get outta here?"

[more questioning hissing]

I waved again between bursts. Emphatically. "Go! Run! Whatever you do!" I emptied another magazine then stepped back into the bubble. "Go, dammit!"

[slightly panicked hiss] Thing got the hint, though, and turned at right angles to the oncoming mob, accelerated in that gliding run of his, and then propelled himself off the edge of the platform and floated into the nothingness.

I spent my time backing away from the edge of the bubble. Not too far, but just far enough that I had a couple seconds to react when the lead darkspawn hit the edge of the bubble and kept coming after me.

I froze in disbelief and the darkspawn took the opportunity to run me over. I recovered just in time to dodge but its claws took a nasty slice out of my arm. I swore and sent a quick burst at that darkspawn. It went down in the expected manner but its buddies kept coming. I backpedaled while shooting and eventually fell over something. Doesn't matter what; I fired another burst while sitting on my ass, threw the rifle, and rolled over. I got my feet under me and sprinted for the back side of my bubble and just kept going when I reached the edge of the platform it's on. I didn't know if I'd just keep going or if I'd plummet to some unknown depth, but whichever it was sure beat being torn apart by a pack of darkspawn.

Just for the record: I kept going just in the direction I'd launched myself. So did the darkspawn. But when I looked down and thought about the gravity of the situation gravity thought about my situation and noticed what I was up to.

I wasn't expecting to hit anything but a tiny little corner of my brain decided panic was in order. I didn't scream; instead I flailed around and felt my hand hit something solid and heard Alistair's voice.

"You're all right! Wake up! You're all right!"

I jerked awake with the required gasping and wild eyes and saw Alistair holding one of my arms and Leliana holding the other.

"You are well," she said quietly and firmly. Her eyes were worried.

I nodded and tried to get the bitter dryness out of my mouth. "I know," I croaked and panted as I sat up.

"Here. Drink," Leliana said.

"Thanks." I took the skin she offered and chugged. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

A worried-looking Alistair pulled me to my feet as he stood up. He pressed his lips together and kept the worried gaze on me, peeked at Leliana, and then didn't quite look me in the eye. "Could I, er, speak with you, for a moment?" He glanced back to Leliana. "Privately? If you don't mind."

Leliana's worry had started to fade but it jumped back into place. Still, she nodded to Alistair and headed back to the guard post.

Alistair's voice was quiet when he asked the question. "How do you feel?"

"Tired and achy. Thirsty. Why?"

He swallowed and took a deep breath and put his bare hand directly on my neck. "Oh, Maker," he said, and I could hear the pain in his voice. "Show me your arm. The injured one."

I thought he meant the injury I'd just picked up in the Fade, but he was referring to the one I'd picked up a couple or three days ago. I raised the arm for him to inspect; instead of the thin, clean scar that'd been there just a few hours ago there was a fine line of crusted black scabs that cracked as I flexed the muscles there. A bead of dark fluid escaped the wound and sat there quivering malevolently.

Ice ran through my entire body when I saw that and I froze in both senses of the word.

Alistair looked grim. He extended a careful hand to my arm and let a delicate finger be stained by the droplet. The instant he made contact Alistair's eyes closed and he tightened his mouth until his lips paled.

"See," I forced out, "that's why we like to gamble with you."

* * *

><p>You know how in a zombie or alien mind control movie there's always some asshole who got infected but doesn't tell anybody and it ends up getting half the group killed? I'm not gonna be that guy. I've got to tell everybody what's happened ASAP.<p>

There was no way I was getting back to sleep after that revelation, but Alistair and I decided there was no sense waking everybody up. So I got to sit there and get pissed and feel sorry for myself and wonder why the hell the precautions we took didn't work.

Except they did. Leather masks for everybody who didn't have a closed helmet. Oghren's firewater on any open wounds before they were healed. Soap and water whenever we could. We washed the darkspawn gore off our clothes so it wasn't just sitting on our skin. We double-checked food and water.

I'd figured if I was going to get killed here it would've been a lot earlier. Going down like this is not really the why I thought it would happen. Although I'm not sure how unpleasant it would be to succumb to the Taint. Probably less so that being gutted by a darkspawn sword.

OTOH, what happens to _me_? Do I just fade away and there's no more? Or is there another level I haven't discovered yet? Or worse, when I change, will I be trapped inside the shell that used to be mine with whatever owns it and be forced to watch everything it does? That's an unsettling prospect.

It took me a while to write all this out and like before it's been cathartic. But at the same time I'm angry and depressed and moody over the sheer unfairness of it all. Why am I here? Why me in the first place? What did I do or not do to draw the attention of whatever runs the multiverse to get my unhappy ass dragged down however many levels I got dragged? And I know I've made a difference here, but has it been enough for whatever wants me here? Or maybe it's been too much and I'm being removed from the game? Or is it just fate fucking with me and the dice finally didn't come out in my favor?

So I'm sitting here having yet another existential crisis and imagining I'm feeling a burning as the infection crawls up my arm. Purely psychosomatic, at least for now, but Alistair said I will start to get feverish and hallucinate over the short run and eventually start hurting and then Change over the long. (Yeah, he capitalized it when he said it.) That last isn't an option. There's poison available and, lacking any other choices, I'll avail myself of it.

* * *

><p>Alistair didn't wake anyone up, but we do like to gamble with him for a reason. Leliana didn't need too long to figure out something was very wrong and decided to find out what it was. I wasn't about to lie to her. Not about this.<p>

She'd reached a hand towards the corrupted wound but stopped when I pulled away. Then she jumped forward and pulled me into a hug; not a sensual one, but one intended to just make me feel not as bad.

"Oh, Maker. I am sorry, Jeffrey. I am so sorry," she whispered as she rested her head against mine.

"I am, too," I answered, and took as much comfort from the contact as I could.

* * *

><p>Itchy warmth poured over my arm but it wasn't touching the blackened scab. Neria's face was contorted with concentration, her shoulders were hunched, and loose strands of hair were standing out. I was truly afraid she was going to burn herself out.<p>

"Hey," I said gently as I put a hand on hers, "you're-"

Those sucker punches of Neria's _hurt._ Her fist caught me in the cheek; my head snapped around hard enough for me to see stars and I heard a collective 'ooh!' from the group. I felt hands grab my face and then Neria's was in mine.

"You fucking bastard," Neria hissed. "I thought we told you to be careful." There was no hint of irony or concern or anything sympathetic. Just pure fury.

"I-"

"Sod off!" She shoved me away and spun around towards her fellow Warden. "Alistair!"

He actually took a step back.

Neria practically leaped across the small distance to him. "What can we do?"

Alistair looked confused and scared but manned up. "There might – _might_ – be something in the Warden compound, but…." He trailed off helplessly and just shook his head. He looked away from Neria and gave me an 'I'm sorry' look.

"Then we go! Now! Everybody get your shit!" Neria spun away from Alistair and stalked to her pack.

I was still rubbing my cheek when I got thumped on the hip.

Oghren was holding his flask and regarding me with a frown. "Gotta say I'm sorry, shaper; it's been good knowing you. Want that drink now?"

I kept rubbing my cheek. "I think I'll hold off a bit more." Although I have to say I appreciate Oghren's matter-of-factness about the situation.

Oghren actually grinned a little. "Heh. Missy's got a pretty good swing, huh?"

Neria yelled from where she was shoving something into her pack. "Oghren! Jeffrey! Shut up and get moving!" She went back to packing but also snapped relatively quietly at Alistair.

"Your armor," Sten said in his standard tone and held up the chest piece. Nothing unusual there; we all help each other into our gear as needed. "Like other bossra you are difficult to understand, but your…absence will be…noticed." He held up the armor.

I ducked into the piece and started cinching up the straps. "Thanks?"

"Heh. Who knew the big guy was so sentimental?"

"I am not sentimental. I am expressing regret at the imminent loss of a capable ally. I would express such an opinion at the loss of any of this group."

Oghren lowered his flask. "Me, too?"

Sten hesitated for just an instant. "Yes, you as well, dwarf."

Oghren turned back to me and grinned. "See? It's always the tough ones that get sentimental on you."

"I am not sentimental. You have proven yourself a worthy ally."

"Whatever you say, big guy."

* * *

><p>We set a fast pace over the last few hours. I've had Oghren on one side and Leliana on the other. Between the two of them my spirits have been on a roller coaster ride. Every time I started dragging myself down one or both them would start some banter that usually got me feeling up again.<p>

But both Neria and Morrigan have been avoiding me. Neria gets angrier every time she looks in my direction. Morrigan just stares coolly at me and waits for me to break eye contact.

So when we stopped to rest again it was Wynne who came by to check on me. "You are a mess."

I'd taken off the upper body armor and was trying to stretch out the damn shoulder. Wynne got a good look at the scars (both old and new) and the dry and not-so-dry gunk on me.

I took a look at Wynne; her robes are as stained as I am if somewhat more torn. She looks – well, gaunt is the right word, but we're all looking that way. Although somehow she's kept her hair in that neat matronly bun, so she's got that Senior Enchanter presence and dignity going for her.

I gave her a tired smile. "I was about to say you're one to talk but your face is clean. I think. And your hair's perfect."

She gave me a tired smile back. "I do what I can. And you? Are you-" She cut herself off and grimaced. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be. Any other time it'd be a fair question."

Wynne stepped close and put a hand on my good arm and gave it a squeeze. "This is not any other time." The hand ran up to my shoulder and squeezed again. "You need to rest."

"I know, but…." I felt – feel - really helpless. "I'm afraid if I go to sleep I won't wake up. At least not as myself."

That got me some understanding in the smile. "We won't let that happen."

I knew exactly what that meant. "I'd appreciate that. Just be _sure_ it's not me, okay?"

"We'll make sure."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, mio amico, that you should come to such an end." Zevran suddenly got a sly grin. "But perhaps you would be interested in one last grasp at life?"<p>

That was confusing. "Uh, unless you know a lot more about the Taint than the rest of us do..."

"No, I speak of the piccolo morte. The little death. One last chance to feel alive before the morte definitiva."

Still wasn't getting it. "Uh…."

Now Zevran looked a little frustrated. "Must I spell it out for in crude terms more appropriate for our dwarven friend?"

"I ain't your sodding amigo! Not till you give me crabs!"

Zevran didn't skip a beat. "I will arrange that as soon as possible."

Ding. And a little laugh. "Ah. Yeah. Well, uh, if I know the Taint as well as I think I do my bodily fluids probably aren't something you should be sampling right now."

The sly grin became a warm smile. "Now that is what I expected from you." Zevran leaned in. "You will be missed, but don't worry; I'll watch over the Wardens. We all will."

I extended a hand and the elf grasped my forearm. "Thanks," I said. "Be careful out there, okay?"

"I always am, mio amico."

* * *

><p>I jerked awake shivering from both a dream and a fever and recoiled from the hand on my arm.<p>

"You're all right," Neria said quietly. She was sitting next to me with her feet drawn in and her hands on her knees, and her chin on her hands. I think she'd been crying. "Bad dream?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think I was in the Fade, but wherever it was I was surrounded by darkspawn. And they just stood there and called me to join them. And when I said, 'No' one of them said, 'Soon.' And then they swarmed over me and I woke up."

Neria didn't answer. Cullen regarded me from where he was pressed up against Neria. Normally he'd be staring at me with a big lazy doggy grin, but now he looks kinda suspicious, I think. At least he's not growling at me. Yet.

"I'm sorry I hit you," Neria suddenly said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand." I flinched as her hand touched my cheek. It's still pretty sore and getting worse.

The girl dodged my eyes. "I tried healing it but I can't. It's the Taint."

"Same with my shoulder, right?"

"Probably."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

We were quiet for a few more minutes.

"We're not going to make it to Orzammar, but...," Neria looked and sounded defeated.

"No." I shrugged at her. "Not that I think there's anything there that'll help."

Neria hugged herself. "I don't – I'm sorry. I might have something here that'll help, but I don't know if it will."

I felt a flicker of hope. "Neria, if there's something that'll stop this, I'm willing to try it."

"Really? Anything?"

"Just about anything."

"Here." Neria dug into one of her pockets and pulled out a vial half-filled with a dark liquid.

The hope disappeared. I felt a flicker of fear laced with disgust. "That's not darkspawn blood, is it?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't really know." Neria winced but kept whispering. "It's, uh, Avernus' potion."

I have no idea what went across my face when she said that. And I was too surprised to say anything.

"Remember what you said? About it being better to have something and not need it than need it and not have it? Well, I thought we might need it, so I brought a couple of the vials." Neria glanced around and kept going. "I, uh, drank a bit of this one a little while ago. It's…horrible, but I'm all right. Better than all right, I think; I feel…I don't know. Stronger, I think. I haven't told Alistair- Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm crazier than I feel right now."

I didn't know I was, but thought about it for a moment. "I don't think I've heard you…chatter like that since…where were we? West Hill?"

Even in the dim light I could see Neria flushing. She slid her face down into her arms and stared at me with hidden eyes. "I'm scared."

I just nodded.

"That's okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's okay. I'm scared, too."

Neria lifted her head and wiggled the hand holding the vial. It didn't escape me that she was concealing it from the others. "So, will you try this?"

"Honestly? I'd rather pet a shark." I thought that statement would make would make Neria cry, but I kept going immediately and she perked up. "But – yeah, this is better than the alternative. Hand it over."

Neria passed me the vial. The contents shifted greasily, and so did my stomach. I eased the stopper off and lifted the glass to my mouth then lowered it as I caught the odiferous combination of porta-potty and roasted broodmother. I argued with my stomach and won. So I turned my head, took a deep breath, and gently exhaled as I raised the vial. As quickly as I could I poured the contents into the back of my throat and choked it down without too much trouble.

Then I got the aftertaste. Burned coffee with cigarette butts. Rusty metal. Fresh basil. Rotted meat seasoned with too damn much salt. I coughed a bit but the priority was dealing with the rebuttal from my stomach. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut as railroad spikes slammed into my guts.

"You're okay," Neria said.

I didn't believe her and started panting through my nose. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I'd puke up what I'd just drunk and I did not want to taste that a second time.

"You're okay." Neria's hand grabbed my arm and I felt a gentle rush of power. Not healing, but the simple boost from some renewing energy that flowed through my body.

That was exactly what I needed. The nausea disappeared and pain receded. I still had the taste in my mouth, though. "Ugh," I choked out. "That was horrible."

"So it worked? Did you feel it?"

"The energy? I thought that was you."

Neria shook her head. "No. That was the potion. Felt like I'd swallowed thistles, then I was suddenly fine. But how do you feel?" She put a motherly hand on my forehead. "I can still feel the Taint, but it seems weaker. Definitely different."

Didn't take long to run the self-diagnostic. The chills were gone, the reddish-gray bruise on my arm wasn't as painful, and I felt energetic. Energetic's a bit strong, but I definitely had more energy. "Better, but not completely. But a lot better."

Neria smiled. "Good." She slid her hand down to my cheek and gave it a burst of healing power. The pain subsided a bit more and the mage smiled with satisfaction. "If we can get you back to Orzammar-"

"If," I agreed.

Neria set her jaw. "When we get you back to Orzammar we'll give you a big dose. That might work." She gently pulled her fingers from my cheek, almost caressing me as she did. "Rest. Well, write then rest."

So I did.

* * *

><p>Took Neria's advice and managed to get a couple hours of sleep. No dreams at all, fortunately, just that deep drifting in and out that means I got some good rest. I guess Avernus knew what he was talking about. The group's up and getting ready. Here's to making good time to Orzammar, and hoping Neria's plan will work.<p>

* * *

><p><em>was feeling beter but hurs too much to write now<em>

A short time ago Jeffrey swore with quiet desperation. I called to him softly and he looked up from this tome with worry upon his face, yet he shook his head stubbornly when I asked him what was amiss. I went to him and a chill fell over me when I saw him, for despite the rest we have just had, he was - and remains - flushed and sweaty.

I asked again what was amiss, although I feared I knew the answer.

When he awoke Jeffrey was of clear eyes and good, if grim, humor. He seemed much his old self and I silently thanked Neria for the potion she had provided him. Neither of them knows I saw Jeffrey subtly consume it, but even had I not seen him drink his violent reaction was unmistakable. At first I feared Neria had given him poison, but my fears were relieved when Jeffrey suddenly appeared well. I was curious as to what had been drunk, yet despite my careful questioning neither of the pair has spoken of exactly what happened.

We set a strong pace on this waking. Jeffrey appeared well enough, although at times he would suddenly stagger to the side as if drunk, and once he fell heavily. He insisted he was well, but Neria would not allow him to walk at the spearhead any longer. Though stubborn, Jeffrey accepted the decree with dignified resignation.

And then we stopped and rested for a time, and Jeffrey swore, and on my questions pressed his book and pen into my hands. His writing hand was – and is - damp and fevered, and guarded pain appears upon his face.

Whatever Neria has done has lost its potency.

Jeffreys answer is sharp."Yeah. It was kind of a longshot anyway." He strongly rubs his forehead and pinches his nose so hard we both wince. "Sorry. Feeling a little off right now."

I understand and see no need for him to apologize.

"Got to stay me."

I wish that he would.

A bitter smile is his reply. "I do not think that is going to happen."

I am not so certain of that for I believe the Maker has a plan for Jeffrey. He has a plan for us all. But my faith is greatly tested at this moment, and I say a quick silent prayer as my friend speaks again.

"If this is His plan then He has a pretty twisted sense of humor." And with that Jeffrey leans against the stone, looks past me, shrugs, and closes his eyes. "Guess this is what I get for being a big damn hero."

I turn about to see Morrigans golden eyes upon me. She acknowledges my presence with a politely inclined head, and takes but a few heartbeats to consider Jeffrey with no other emotion. Then she turns and walks away. If circumstances are truly as I understand them Jeffrey has traded his life for hers. I will speak to Morrigan of this later.

I will not be kind.

LINE BREAK

We rested but a short time and our travel this waking has been slow. Before we started our journey Neria pulled him aside and spoke urgently with him; Jeffrey simply drank the proffered substance and set to resolutely marching to Orzammar. But he is further succumbing to the Taint with each passing step and has refused further ministrations.

His argument was simple and eloquent. "I do not want that to be the last thing I taste."

LINE BREAK

_damn gues this is it see you n the other side._

Jeffrey took far too long to painfully scratch those words into his book. I wonder at the /you/ to whom he speaks.

"The-" He shakes his head and searches for the words. "Whoever ends up reading this."

Of course. But I do not mention that except for short excerpts none of us has read his account. I will choose not to do so, at least until our journeys are over, as I might find my own writings colored by Jeffreys.

But I digress. Save Neria and Morrigan the others have come over and spoken their private goodbyes, and now Jeffrey sits and shakes with fever. He meets my eyes with his bloodshot ones and speaks simple words.

"I do not feel good."

And with that he closes his eyes. He is quiet for a moment then speaks again.

"I just want to go home."

LINE BREAK

_A/N: Sorry about the update delay but I've to deal with some real-life stuff (mostly good), including taking a week off from writing to go to Phoenix Comicon._

_Anyway…._

_I guess this is it. I'll need a chapter or two to write up the epilogue and Middle of Nowhere will be done._

_Nah, just kidding. Well, mostly._

_At this point to the story can go in one of two main directions. I'm perfectly happy with killing off our intrepid narrator but I'm sure there are a lot of you out there who'd like to see his story continue. Please leave a comment in the reviews. I'm up to hearing your opinion._

**Her Eternal Grimoire, SnowHelm, New Zealand 5:** _sorry, but Jeff's Tainted. I don't want to give anything away regarding the darkspawn nightmares for fear of giving up spoilers. As to Alistair coming up with the 'Back to Orzammar' solution that was a case of 'real life writes the story.' I couldn't figure out a solution to the Branka problem; _**Beta Reader**_ said something and I facepalmed and wrote the section._

MINOR SPOILER: _Branka's gonna make Orzammar a very interesting place._

**war sage, White Ivy, Anon, Imperious Geth, ReallyOldGuy: **_thanks to you all for the praise! And things are slowly becoming AU._

**Shinkansen: **_totally agree and understand about the Qunari/mage/Warden thing. But given that Qunari classify things by their role, and that Neria's a Warden, Sten's mostly able to fit her into a category with which he's comfortable. And I think it probably helped that Neria picked up a new staff that sees double-duty as a spear. Can't say much about Safa's ultimate fate for risk of (you guessed it) spoilers._

**bigstupidjellyfish1337:** _I enjoyed writing Safa in for a number of reasons, including a 'wait a minute' moment_ **Beta Reader** _had._

**GlysMari: **_for all the work they show going into it you'd have thought Bioware could have come up with a better looking crown. But it does look dwarven, and it was made by a thousand-year old recluse._

**AD Lewis:** _if the group had just killed Branka outright Oghren, for all the hurt he has about her, probably would have reacted with a lot more than just a -10 disapproval. Safa, and eventually Kardol, would have had more to say. Jeff probably should have just let things play out the way they were supposed to._

**Phygmalion:** _excellent speculation on both Branka's role and Jeff's Fade abilities. Unfortunately, I can't confirm or deny anything you've said because of potential spoilers._

**Doombug:** _thank you! And just so everybody knows: real-life obligations have slowed my writing down considerably._


	75. Short and Sweet

_A/N: wow! Lots of reviews for Chapter 74, mostly of the "please don't kill Jeff!" variety, but also several deep and thoughtful reviews weighing the pros and cons of each of my potential storylines. Please believe me when I say I truly appreciate each and every one of you who gave me the feedback I asked for. But also believe me when I say that at the end of Chapter 74 I personally was torn between the storylines. When things got moving and I created my outline of plot points this was the big fork in the road. I've got an outline based on each outcome sitting on the sidelines and, until just recently, literally could not make up my mind about which way to go. I've considered a lot of things, but my final decision as to Jeff's fate was based upon a phrase from a single reviewer._

_In retrospect the poll was a bad idea. It just gave me a simple 'Yes/No' answer when I was looking for something more nuanced. Still, I appreciate the time taken by those who responded. But if I had to do it again I'd let the end of Chapter 74 stand on its own without a poll._

_Just for the record: when I started MoN I honestly thought I'd be done with it by now. But I've found that the story has a life of its own and, if anything, it seems like there's just too much of it to tell. But I've also found that if I don't get the ideas out my head it's (my head, not the story) is going to asplode. Like all writers I find that some days the words just leap on to the page, and on others I struggle to get a few sentences out. But don't get me wrong. I am still enjoying writing MoN; it's been a labor of love (most of the time), and it even when it's not been that by no means has it felt like a chore. If anything, it's a means of escape from the rigors of everyday life. _

_Jeff's fate will be revealed soon and I hope everyone finds it satisfactory. I promise to do my utmost to maintain the standards I've set up to now and provide a quality story even if the outcome isn't to your personal liking._

_So with that we return to our regularly scheduled programming:_

* * *

><p>I felt writing further in this journal would be wrong in some way. This is Jeffrey's story, not mine, and I felt that I had sufficiently honored his request to bring his story to an end, save for a final passage noting such.<p>

And yet when Alistair approached me with his dilemma I reached for my own worn diary but my hand instead found this book. A sign from the Maker, perhaps? An innocent mistake? Or an unacknowledged desire to see Jeffreys story continued? I shall think on these possibilities at a more opportune time, but for now this is the book at hand, and it shall hold my thoughts.

It has been some time since Jeffrey last spoke, a few hours, perhaps; time is hard to read in the Deep Roads. We have attempted to rest but Jeffreys plight weighs heavily upon us and rest is difficult. Neria has not yet made the impossible choice that lies upon her young shoulders, although I believe she has been steeling herself for that decision.

But Alistair came to me a short time ago with indecision written upon his handsome face. He pulled me aside and whispered to me and requested my confidence.

Of course I granted it.

Alistair began speaking hesitantly but quickly found his voice. "Duncan once gave me a token; a memento, if you will, of the Grey Wardens. It is meant to remind us of the sacrifices we make. It might help Jeffrey, but there is no promise that it will."

I am unspokenly curious as to the nature of this token, but I wondered aloud why Alistair did not simply use it.

At this Alistair looked pained. Grieved. Embarrassed as well, perhaps. But his voice remains firm. "I do not /know/ that it will work. But I do not know that it will not. What I do know is that this is all I have to remind me of Duncan. If it does not work for Jeffrey-" Alistairs voice trailed away quietly.

I understood his impasse. If Alistair does not attempt to use his token then Jeffrey is assured to succumb. But if he uses it and the token does not work then both Jeffrey and Duncan will be lost to Alistair. The answer is simple upon its face: whatever its nature the token must be used. Sometimes one must release the past to preserve the present. And should he not use it I believe that decision would weigh upon Alistair even heavily than it does now.

Alistair sighed and spoke with saddened resignation. "You are right, of course. I just – I just did not want to make this decision on my own."

He needed another to tell him what he had already decided in his heart. But if an action was to be taken it must be taken swiftly.

Alistair turned worried eyes towards Jeffrey. "I do not want him to change, but if he does-" His eyes dropped knowingly to his sword, but he was unable to speak for he was interrupted.

Oghrens voice rang out seriously but echoed with regret. "Do not worry, pretty boy. If things go that far I will take care of him." The dwarf ran a meaningful thumb along the notched edge of his great axe. "Had to do this before. Do not like it, but it is something you have to get used to if you are going to walk the Deep Roads." Our short, doughty companion nodded his head towards Jeffrey. "But whatever you are going to do do it quick; Shaper is not looking too good, and I hate to see the poor sod like that."

Alistairs countenance became darker, but also relieved. "I guess I should thank you for that," he said with great care.

Oghren shrugged and scowled deeply. "You got to do what you got to do. Now go do what you got to do."

Alistair nodded to the dwarf and to me. "Right. I will be with Neria."

I bade him to hurry with his plan.

And it seems as if he has. I watched as Alistair went to speak with Neria. Upon hearing his words my sister nodded and her eyes grew wide as Alistair pulled a large pendant from beneath his battered armor. I could not hear their words, but Neria suddenly reached forward and concentrated in the way that meant she was gifting Alistair with invigorating power.

Neria turned away from the man and dug through her pack and presented two items to Alistair. The first was a pendant that to my eyes was identical to Alistairs; they held a short, subdued conversation over the device. The second item was concealed from my direct sight but Alistair reacted with obvious surprise, and I heard him exclaim. He immediately lowered his voice and the two young Wardens held a quick, intense argument. It was settled when Neria stopped speaking and gazed softly and questioningly at Alistair and placed a gentle hand on his.

If in the future I am asked I will say it is at this time I first saw the potential hidden within Alistair. All trace of hesitation, of doubt, of caution, disappeared from his countenance. He straightened and squared himself and nodded with new purpose at the quandary Neria had posed. He stood, offered a strong hand, and pulled my sister up. She hurried to the back room of our way station; Alistair returned to me.

I wonder what it is they were discussing.

"Grey Warden secret," Alistair says quietly.

Oghren snorts so loudly that both Alistair and I start. "Grey Wardens and their sodding secrets," he grunts; there was mockery in his voice. "Do not get me wrong; you Wardens are good people – well, usually good people, but when you show you tend to get people killed." Oghren drinks deeply and noisily from his neverending flask while he gathers his thoughts. "Although it is usually some young rutter with more stones than sense trying to show off for the Wardens, or with the Wardens for some nug-rumped lady, or both. Although you lot are good people, and except for those stupid descendants Jarvia had working for her I do not think you got anybody killed. Well, except for all those blighters. Good work on that." Oghren raises his flask to Alistair and drinks yet again.

Alistair is confused, as am I, but he finds his voice first. "Were you going somewhere with that?"

Oghren stops mid drink and considers the man. "If I was I forgot." He shrugs. "Ah, well. You and Missy need to hurry up and take care of the Shaper. One way or the other, because we need to get moving. My arse is falling asleep sitting around here." Suddenly he points a blunt, filthy finger at me. "And you! Is that not the Shapers book? You should not be writing in that; it is not yours! You cannot mix memories!"

Jeffrey asked me to write a finish to his tale; to /close out/, as he put it, his memories.

"You did that already! Now close the sodding book! Stupid surfacers-" Oghren trails away; his voice a dull, unintelligible grumble. He drinks again from his flask and glares at me until I can stand it no longer.

For Oghrens peace of mind, and my own, I shall continue these thoughts in my own journal.

* * *

><p><em>More AN: somehow I picked a virus that I can't wipe off my hard drive, so I'm going to take the opportunity to upgrade my motherboard, CPU, RAM, and operating system. That project's going to take a couple of days for the building and software installation. (Don't worry, the _**MoN**_ files are safe. I've backed them up to two physical and network separate locations; I'd hate to lose them as much as you'd hate me to. Although _**that**_ would be a monster cliffhanger….)_

_And in mid-July we're planning to go visit the younger spawn at his basic training graduation at Fort Sill. That'll be about a six-day round trip with few chances to write, although I will be able to bounce ideas off Beta Reader. And for those of you wondering I did pick up a plush Rainbow Dash to present to him at a suitably embarrassing moment._

_Sometimes real life slows the plot._


	76. Left for Dead

Every muscle ached. Especially my arm where the wound is/was; that was on fire. And the fire was creeping up my arm. I needed a drink of water just to be able to swallow. My head was thumping over top of the ache. Every joint ground like broken glass when I moved. Even my teeth and hair hurt.

I don't know why this was so because I was in the Fade. And staring at a surprisingly worried-looking D-Amy. I was worried myself; there was a dark cloud roiling up behind her and I had zero doubt that it would ignore the wall of my bubble.

Amy kept her relative cool, though, and didn't even look back. "And the corruption? Would you not be free of it?"

I winced with relief as I squeezed my infected arm with my left hand. It hurt, but not as much as leaving it alone. "I don't think you can pull that off."

Amy considered the few feet (and the bubble wall) between us. "I can keep you alive. The corruption will spread no further."

"Tempting, but at what cost?" Before the demon could answer I kept going. "No. I'm not gonna be a coma patient and slow everybody else down."

"Coma?" Amy thought for an instant. "I see. No, you would be conscious. Sick, until healed, but conscious. And I would…accompany you."

"Uh, no. I promised Neria I wouldn't become an abomination."

"And what good is such a promise when the corruption overtakes you?"

I didn't answer but instead stared pointedly at the approaching cloud.

"Such self-sacrifice is noble, but hardly practical. Come now. There must be something you desire."

There was. I didn't want to become a darkspawn, I didn't want to hurt anymore, I didn't wanna die in a dark tunnel, I definitely didn't wanna see what was in that cloud, and I didn't want any decision I made to come back and bite the others. What I blurted out wasn't really a surprise, but I didn't expect to hear myself saying it, either.

"I wanna go home."

D-Amy smiled. At least she's learned to keep her lips together. "I could perhaps arrange that."

That made me forget the pain for a few seconds. But I had to ask, "And what do you want?"

"I will simply accompany you."

That still sounded ominous, but, "What does that mean?"

"You return to your place. For getting you there, I come along, and see your world."

That definitely sounded ominous. "Uh, how exactly?"

"I will be prudent, I promise."

"That didn't answer the question."

D-Amy smirked. "I'm not sure I know the answer." She looked back over her shoulder at the black cloud. "But I do promise it will be more pleasant than the alternative."

I wasn't too thrilled about the alternative either. But making an open-ended deal with a demon?

D-Amy's smirk turned into a pout. "Fine. I see you safely home, and then I see your world with your eyes. Not mine. I'll be with you, but you will remain you."

"Wait, what?"

"I won't possess you, but I'll be with you."

I looked to the cloud. It was whispering to me with words only just beyond lucidity. I looked back at Amy; she was smiling. "What if this doesn't work?"

"Then perhaps we can attempt a different bargain." A tilt of the head. "If there's anything of you left with which to bargain."

I looked back at the cloud.

[quiet, sibilant, but ultimately meaningless [I hoped] mutterings]

As much as I was, and am, scared of Amy I was a lot more scared of that cloud. You get to make most of the decisions in your life, but some decisions are made for you. This was one of the latter. "Welcome aboard."

Amy released a broad, toothy smile, but quickly closed her lips. "Then approach me."

I stepped through the bubble wall and almost from reflex found myself holding my rifle. Amy took a step back but I kept the weapon down. She hesitated then took a careful step forward.

"What is it you desire?"

Months of frustration came out in a single, pitiful whine. "I just wanna go home."

She reached with a delicately clawed hand and placed her palm on my forehead. The smile showed teeth again. "Perhaps we can."

* * *

><p>I hissed as I walked out into the sunlight and felt my eyes trying to adjust and my skin start to prickle. Being in the damn Arizona sun is like being under a broiler. I don't even bother with sunscreen; I should just rub a clove of garlic on my skin. I figure I'm gonna burn anyway, but at least I'll smell good.<p>

Eric groaned as the sunlight hit his eyes, but he didn't have any shades to slip on so he held his popcorn (greasy, salty goodness!) up to cast a shadow over his face. "You're right; that was good. Although I was wondering where they were going with it."

"I thought you'd like it."

"Yeah, it was really good. And you know what was cool about it?"

"What?"

"They made fun of all the stuff you'd expect to happen in a horror movie."

I thought about that for a second as we weaved through the parking lot. "So they played with the tropes?"

"Yeah, I'd say that. So what did you think?"

"Uh…." I'd started to answer but couldn't get my thoughts in order. "What…?" I didn't even know the question I wanted to ask.

"You know, I don't wanna get old and have my brain breaking down like yours does."

I faux-glared at the boy. Well, young man; he's eighteen. Maybe nineteen by now. "I should Gibbs' slap you for that."

"But you won't cause I'll dump the popcorn."

Grumble. I stopped next to the Outback. "Just unlock the door."

There was a _thunk _as the boy complied, but my hand only just touched the handle. "Hey, uh, what movie did we just see?"

"Sucks to get old, doesn't it?"

"What movie?" I snapped the question out.

Eric looked a little surprised at how sharp I was.

"What movie?" I repeated.

"Duh. _The Cabin in the Woods_."

Okay, I'd been looking forward to that, but I was drawing a blank on the movie itself.

"Dad, you okay?"

I just stared at my son.

"Dad…?"

"I don't know!"

"Dad, you're acting weird. Weirder than usual."

My hand was tingling from touching the door handle, and not because it was too hot from baking in the sunlight. I felt a strong urge to just get in the car, but something didn't feel right.

"Are you getting in?"

"I…don't know."

"What? Dad, come on. Just get in the car."

There was a little voice in the back of my head, both figuratively and literally. The literal one was saying 'Get in the car'; the figurative voice was saying there was something wrong about the whole situation. "No." I pulled my hand away from the car door.

"Dad, quit being a jerk and just get in!"

"Hey!" I snapped. "I'm allowed to be a jerk!"

Eric opened his mouth to protest.

"I'm the dad; that's one of my privileges! Now, shut up and let me think!"

"Think about what? Just get in!"

That pushed my stubborn button. That and the hesitation I was feeling made the next words I said sound really pissed. "Go home."

"What?"

"Go. Home." I turned around started walking away from the car.

"Dad?"

I didn't turn around. "Go home! I'll call you when I'm ready to come home!"

And with that I walked away.

* * *

><p>"You'll need this."<p>

A pretty red-haired girl sat down opposite me and slid my cell phone across the food court table.

I picked up the phone. It looked like mine, and when I flipped it open the contacts were mine, too. I gave her an embarrassed smile. "Thanks. I didn't know I'd dropped it."

The girl leaned forward and frowned at me over my leftover popcorn. "You're a fool. Did you know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"You are a fool," she said deliberately.

I was still ticked at Eric, and this wasn't helping. "Okay, thanks for giving back my phone, but-"

"Your son. That was your way home."

"Yeah…but…." I held up the cell phone.

"It may be too late for that."

I opened my mouth, closed it, shook my head, and tried to answer again. "You know, thanks again for finding my phone, but-"

The girl gave me a stare that froze me in place. "Look around."

I did. The food court was empty except for the two of us. It was as if everybody else had suddenly just disappeared. Strike that; everybody else _had_ suddenly disappeared. I could hear sizzling from the Japanese grill and from the smoke something was starting to burn. An R/C mini-helicopter bounced to a harmless landing next to a kiosk. "What the fuck?"

"You must move quickly. Home is safe," the girl said. "Remember that."

"What?" I turned my attention back to the girl and got chicken skin over every inch of my body.

The redhead was gone. I was sitting alone in an empty food court in an apparently empty mall. I flipped open the cell phone and tried to dial Eric's number but couldn't get the signal to go through.

"Damn."

Empty shopping malls are creepy. Try it sometime.

I smacked the bag of popcorn with the back of my hand and watched the tasty little yellow bits of styrofoam bounce across the tables and floor. Then I opened the cell phone again and tried dialing Eric's phone. This time at least it went to voicemail.

"Hey, Eric, it's Dad; come back and get me. Please. I'm in the food court." I snapped the phone closed and looked around the place.

The sun wasn't shining directly through the skylights any more. There was a dim, unearthly glow coming from everywhere; I could see very clearly but everything stood out from its background. It was both surreal and hyperreal at the same time.

It was also confusing. How did I get there? Why didn't I remember the movie? Where was everybody else?

I snorted. Empty shopping malls usually mean only a couple things. "If it's zombies next I'm gonna be pissed!" The words were intended as a joke, but I could hear the nervousness in my voice.

I got pissed. A high-pitched wailing came from the opposite end of the mall and I could suddenly hear the drumming of feet. Hundreds of feet. The hair on my neck stood up faster than I did, but it was a near thing. I turned around and sprinted for the mall office. But then I skidded to a stop and grabbed a chair and continued on the way. It only took a few seconds to get to the office, but the door was, fortunately, unlocked. I didn't waste the chair; I shoved it under the knob. I needed a few more seconds to drop the blinds, but I didn't get it done before the zombie mob saw me.

"Frakkin' fast zombies; you're not allowed to be so fast!"

They hit the concealed windows with a meaty thump. The thumps continued as they started beating on the glass. I took the few seconds I had to grab a heavy flashlight then scrambled onto a cabinet and pushed up a ceiling tile. And then I saw the rifle. There was an M16 leaning in a corner I dropped back down, grabbed the weapon and all the magazines I could carry, and climbed back up. There was a crunch as the glass broke below me; a bloodied arm pushed through it and the dropped blinds. I didn't hesitate any longer; I climbed through the gap in the tiles and, as gently as I could, into the space above them. I pulled the ceiling tile back into place and carefully crawled away from the horde I could hear below me.

I didn't stop to think about the incongruity and convenience of an assault rifle and ammo sitting unsecured. I did send some silent thanks to whoever'd put them there and hoped they weren't part of the horde below me. And that horde was fucking fast; give me a horde of shamblers over these guys any day. I can deal with slow zombies but fast ones….

Dead end thinking, that, so I carefully picked my way through the ceiling space until I couldn't hear any moaning. I pried up a tile and peeked under it; there was a maintenance corridor there. No sounds came from it. But before I jumped down I calmed myself as best I could.

It took a few minutes to reach my center, but when I found it I felt my heart slow down and my head clear. I eased myself down then dropped the last few feet; when I landed I stumbled and bumped the wall. Everything wavered and went dark for a moment; from somewhere far away I heard voices speaking about me, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Ookay," I said. The voices dissipated, but now there was a circle with an arrow in it pointing down the hall. "Why not?" I went that way.

I opened some crash doors into another corridor. Stairs to the left, zombies down the hall to the right. Another arrow pointed up. Zombies screamed; I turned and emptied my magazine at them, then charged up the stairs while reloading. I could've used a grenade to drop behind me, but didn't have one so I just kept running. I yanked open the fire doors on the next level then slammed them shut again as a second batch of zombies alerted on me. I turned and sprinted up the stairs.

I skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs and stared stupidly at the sign on a glass case. _In Case of Zombies Break Glass._

I stared at that until my brain finally reset. "Okay." I broke the glass, grabbed the fire ax, and kept going. I skidded to another stop next to yet another set of doors. I actually took a few seconds to listen at these doors. I couldn't hear anything and I couldn't see anything through the gap between them. I eased the door open and stepped as quietly as I could into the next corridor.

The door clicked quietly closed as I checked rooms to my right and left. Clear and clear. Down the corridor to the next pair. Clear and oh shit. I jabbed the zombie with the ax and staggered it then took a Hank Aaron swing. But I waited until I was sure the room was clear before saying, shakily, "Throw a coin in that fountain."

I heard a noise from the hallway. I went out carefully; the double doors I'd come through were shaking slightly. "Fuck it." I turned right and jogged down the hallway, expecting to hear that 'dinner is served' wail each time I went past an open doorway. But I turned a corner without attracting any attention and ended up at a dead end. I didn't bother backtracking. I closed and locked the door behind me but couldn't find anything to brace against it.

I climbed up some machinery and got myself back above the ceiling. Time to backtrack. I crawled as carefully as I could back the way I'd come; I needed to get to whatever the arrow was pointing at.

* * *

><p>"Fuck you!" Headshot.<p>

"Fuck you!" Miss, then a body shot.

"Oh, and you, too!" Headshot again.

I was walking forward slowly and picking off the odd zombie as they came at me. I'd managed to bypass the main horde and work my way towards the whatever the arrows were pointing at, and could finally see my destination: a red metal door that looked reassuringly solid. I paced myself; if I sprinted something unseen would probably grab me. At least while walking I wouldn't trip or make a wrong turn or anything. But with ten yards to go I jumped forward and slammed the door as I crossed the threshold. The metal crossbar fell into place and I was safe.

And then I had a heart attack.

"You're resourceful. I will grant you that." The redhead who'd returned my phone was sitting on a table. Jeans, red t-shirt, sneakers, and not a hair out of place. She swung her legs casually as she stared only slightly less intently than the zombies. At least I was pretty sure she wasn't going to eat me.

Pretty sure.

"You need to keep moving. You need to get home."

I kept staring at her.

"You don't have much time-"

My heart started up again but my mouth wasn't in gear.

"-and you have to do this for yourself."

"Who-?"

"Who I am doesn't matter. You need to keep moving, and get _home_."

"What-?"

"I can't really help you, but you'll understand."

"Understand-"

_Wham._

I nearly leaped out of my skin while my heart ground to another halt. There were zombies bashing themselves against the door I'd come in. It was holding solidly so I turned back to the redhead. She was gone.

"Okay, this has got to be a fucking nightmare. That's the only thing that makes sense. This has got to be a fucking nightmare."

Except I don't have nightmares.

"This has got to be a fucking nightmare." I'm not sure who I was trying to convince of that.

I looked around the room for anything useful. I grabbed a pistol and some magazines, and _clank_. The sound repeated and I had an 'oh shit' moment. The door was being worked loose by the impacts against it. I wasn't about to shoot through metal bars so I checked the exit door. It was clear on the outside. Easy decision; I opened it, checked outside, and stepped through. I closed the door behind me and managed to drop the crossbar into place before moving out.

* * *

><p>Fire axes don't run out of ammo. They're quiet. They'll keep the bad guys at a reasonable melee distance. But they're not good for taking down groups. I'd got out of the mall, snuck across the parking lot, and hopped over a wall into a neighborhood. I'd found more zombies, but they were wandering around singly rather than chasing me down as a mob. And the ones that did see me weren't subtle; they just ran straight at me, and that made it a lot easier to use the axe.<p>

I'd also found more arrows so I more or less followed them south. My pace was slow but careful, and up until a few minutes before I hadn't heard anything behind me. But when I heard the wail of the mall horde off in the distance I stepped out.

And then I had a second problem: a small horde directly between me and a safe room the arrows had been guiding me to. They'd perked up when they heard the other mob scream, but didn't move away like I'd hoped they would.

My decision was easy. I pulled out the rifle, made sure I had a reload handy, and started shooting. At least I didn't have to try for headshots; a body hit or two would drop them, and it's a lot easier to aim center mass when things are that crazy. I fired, moved, fired some more, reloaded, and repeated. And then, finally, thankfully, I slammed the door on a zombie hand, shot the hand's owner, and reslammed and barred the door.

I immediately did a three-sixty. No redhead. But there was more ammo, food, water (although I wasn't hungry or thirsty), and, most importantly, a radio. With power. And a list of frequencies and callsigns. Whatever the fuck was going on suddenly had some potential answers, provided I could get through to somebody.

"Any station this net, any station this net, this is…-" I took a second to double-check my callsign and shook my head as I gave it. "-sierra romeo seven one. Need assistance at this location." Okay, the number had to be a coincidence. I was beginning to think whatever was going on had more layers to it than I realized. And if it was a dream, it was definitely in the top five of craziest dreams I'd ever had.

I repeated the outgoing call.

The radio speaker crackled to life with a man's clear, concerned voice. "Jeff? Can you hear me?"

That wasn't proper radio procedure, but whatever. "Uh, this is sierra fox charlie ******, US Army. Retired."

Laughter hissed through the speaker. "Jeff, it's Alistair. How are you feeling?"

I raised an eyebrow at the speaker's British accent. "Uh, who is this?"

"It's Alistair."

Okay. "And do I know you?"

"Of course you do."

Okay again. He sounded nice, at least.

There was a _bang_ as something hit the door. And more banging as it kept hitting.

"Shit! Listen, I need some help. I'm at sierra romeo seven one. I need an extraction ASAP. Or at least directions to an extraction point."

The only answer was the white noise from the speaker.

"Oh, come on, man! Don't leave me hanging!"

Alistair finally answered. "Jeff, you're making less sense than usual."

Again, whatever. "Nothing's making much sense right now. Now how 'bout that extraction?"

"Er, we're, uh, working on something that might help. But you need to hold on as long as you can."

I shot a nervous look at the door. It was starting to give under the assault against it. Time to go. "I'm outta time right now. I'll call again as soon as I can."

"Jeff! No! Wait!"

"Sorry. Sierra romeo seven one out."

And just in time. The door fell half open and zombies crawled over it. I grabbed what I could and jumped for the exit; I bashed a couple of zombies on the way and slammed the door shut behind me. I couldn't drop the bar, but the zombies were pushing the door against the frame. I hoped that would buy me some time.

* * *

><p>It didn't. Or at least not enough. I dashed into the next room and added the ax handle to the metal bar and swore from pure desperation. There was a dark spot on my right forearm that looked suspiciously - make that ominously - like a bite mark. I couldn't remember when or how I'd got it. It was bruised and sore to the touch, but the thing that really had me worried were some black streaks, maybe an inch or two long, running both up and down my arm from it.<p>

"-so I think I'm infected."

"Jeff," Alistair answered seriously, "we _know_ you're infected. Just-" His voice choked a little bit. "Just hold on a little more."

I laughed. "I'm glad you care, man, but…I'm infected."

"And we might be able to help you. Just hold on."

"Then get me an-"

_Bam._

"Shit! I'll call back ASAP. Wish me luck. Sierra romeo four two out."

"Good luck."

* * *

><p>"You're almost there."<p>

I told my heart to wait a minute and rushed the redhead. I pinned her against the wall.

"Release me!"

"Tell me what the fuck's going on!"

She glared back at me defiantly. "I can't!"

"Is this some kind of dream? Nightmare?" If this wasn't a nightmare, although I was beginning to believe it was, I needed to know what was going on, and maybe get some info. If it was a nightmare, well, I didn't know.

"I can't say." Her voice was calm but clipped.

I raised the rifle and in response got a snarl filled with inhumanly sharp teeth. The hair on my neck went up and a chill ran down me. I froze and let the redhead just push the weapon aside.

She _hissed_ like a snake; quiet, breathy, and primal. "Keep moving," she said deliberately. "Home is safe. And you're almost there."

But, "Why is home safe?" I waved at the kitchen we were in; my house is nowhere that sturdy.

The girl answered before I could keep going. "Trust me. You have to."

Every instinct screamed to not trust her, but something about getting home just made sense. And I didn't have that far to go; a bit over a mile, maybe, if I went straight. A mile and a half if I took the roads. Ten or twelve minutes at a slow run. Twice that at a fast walk.

If I didn't have to deal with more zombies. That was unlikely.

But when I got home then what? There was just too much I didn't know about what was going on. And the redhead wasn't helping.

"This is a dream, isn't it? This is some kind of crazy-even-for-me nightmare."

With her mouth closed the girl looked normal. I almost forgot about the teeth. She answered through tight lips. "It's not a dream, not in the way you understand dreams. What happens here has repercussions beyond here."

I just stared stupidly.

"You have to get home. Despite your foolishness you still have that chance. Do so and this will be but a nightmare. Don't-" She parted her lips and sneered and hissed, "Go!"

That got me moving. I backed away from the not-human-enough girl until I felt a swinging door at my back.

"Go," she said simply.

I pushed through the door and looked around. I was close to home; I recognized the interior of a restaurant only a mile or so from my house. But the restaurant wasn't supposed to be there; it'd burned down last summer and wasn't rebuilt yet. I took that to mean I was dreaming, but it didn't feel like a dream. To my senses everything seemed real, but the reality of it all was absurd. The only thing that made sense was that I was steadily getting closer to home. The question I couldn't answer was what would happen when I got there.

I saw movement and raised the rifle but things became even more absurd. An older woman, heavy set with graying hair and wearing Escher-lizard scrubs walked towards me. She ignored the rifle, my panting, even the black streaks featured prominently on my right arm. Instead she grabbed my left hand and took my pulse, and then she grabbed my face and shined a flashlight at me.

I felt my iris cramp and decided to add to the absurdity. "Ow! My eye!"

That got her attention. She checked my right eye, then my left one again, and stuck her face in mine. "Huh. Don't go anywhere; I'll be right back."

"Uh, excuse me…."

I don't think she heard me because she walked down the hallway. I followed her and ended up in the restaurant bar and got yet another surprise.

"Jeff." It sounded like Alistair's voice, but it still made me jump. And I didn't see anyone around, or see any radios. It actually sounded like Alistair was right there in the room with me, but I couldn't see anyone.

"Jeffrey." This was a new voice; a woman's voice.

"I'm here!"

And again. "Jeffrey," but this time followed by words I couldn't make out, but definitely in Alistair's voice.

"Jeff, can you hear me?" A third voice, an unknown one this time, but laced with the familiarity of having heard it before.

"Jeffrey."

I jumped at that; somebody had put an arm around my shoulders. I started and found the arm's and voice's owner: a very young woman with dark, reddish-brown hair and worried blue eyes in a drawn face.

"Uh, hi."

"Jeffrey, you need to drink this." She held up a heavy-duty test tube filled with an unpleasant looking black liquid.

…

Alistair suddenly appeared opposite the girl. He was young, blonde, and disgustingly good-looking. You know: the kind of guy that's got genetics backing him up. Still, he sounded nice when he spoke again. "Jeff, we don't know if this will work, but…but at least you'll have a chance." He began speaking solemnly.

I didn't catch the words because the maybe-not-human redhead suddenly appeared. "No! You can't do this! You'll undo everything!"

…

Alistair and the girl ignored her. I had no clue what was going on; all I could do was stare and wonder what the hell was going on.

And then I gagged. The girl had put the test tube up to my mouth and I got a whiff of the contents. Rotten meat that had been cooked to burnt then allowed to rot some more and seasoned with hot metal shavings and fresh herbs. Not a pleasant combination.

The redhead got in my face; the other two still didn't seem aware of her. "Don't drink," she snarled.

"Why-"

"Because if you don't you'll die!" the girl moaned. She tilted the tube against my lips. "Luh-kime," she whispered.

"No!" the redhead yelled and swiped a clawed hand at me.

I was jerking away from the redhead's talons and being held in place at the same time.

"Jeff," Alistair said urgently, "hold still and just drink!"

Strong hands grabbed me from the wrong directions. The vial of darkness pressed against my lips; somehow my mouth opened, my head tilted back, and the wrongness poured in.

* * *

><p><em>AN: the computer rebuild went better than expected (that is, everything worked the first time!), although I'm still dealing with recovering my backup files._

_Using the Joining potion in the Warden's Oath pendants was something I'd thought of literally at the beginning of the fic. Good job those of you who suggested it as a potential solution to Jeff's plight, and thank you for deeming it an acceptable solution. As an aside: Bioware originally had plans to have companions become Taint-infected in the Deep Roads but couldn't figure out how to incorporate that into gameplay. But imagine the choices you'd have to make: say you'd only have enough Joining potion to save one companion; who would it be?_

_Although I normally answer each review Chapter 74 just had too many to go over individually, but I'll start picking things up again here. Anything I don't answer isn't intended as a slight; I'm just being very careful not to give anything away._

**Diclonious57:** N_eria's name is actually the canon name for the elf mage. I'd seen the name and liked it, and found that fact out a little too late to be able to change things. But I came up with a bit of headcanon for that and might eventually let it out._

**Riptide Monzarc:** _you're quiet welcome for the shoutout; I really enjoyed the darker interpretation you put on things._

**InsidiousAgent:** _Leliana's interludes are a pain. I have to switch my normal style for something a bit more flowery and epic-feeling. Then I have to go back and edit and edit and edit again to make sure I've captured her voice satisfactorily. In general, though, I've been satisfied with the results. But it's not something I really look forward to and will use the device sparingly, if at all._

**Anon:** _right before delving into the Deep Roads Jeff left some warnings of things to come. However, that was intended to be a 'Open in the event of my death' thing._

**GlysMari:** _Oghren always struck me as someone who's got the experience and know-how to get things done. He comes across (to me at least) as having a lot more understanding about things than he lets on. But that doesn't mean he isn't the crude, drunken, SOB that we all know and love._ **Beta Reader:** _ I love the Welsh name, by the way. _

**Azrael Duke:** _I don't want to say anything regarding Jeff's future right now; please be patient. However, I consulted_ **Beta Reader** _and she had some very harsh words regarding any potential and/or hypothetical bard-snogging._


	77. Say Hello

**_A/N: Warning: this chapter contains potential triggers regarding rape. Please proceed carefully._**

* * *

><p>It was horrible. It tasted of blood and metal and rot and was bitter like abandonment and loneliness. But that wasn't the worst of it. I tasted loss, and regret, and pain, and anger, and that wasn't the worst of it. I tasted a desire to take all that and embrace it within myself and share that with the world. All I'd have to do was stop fighting, and relax, and the struggle would be over, and I could be reborn into a new flesh that would crawl into the world and spread its own filth to those who haven't yet tasted the horrible majesty of it and they would be finally be free to spread their own glory to the bastards who were fighting the beauty of it all bu5 t636sw w2e9ufsd dof390e2 q011 cxppoi<p>

* * *

><p>And it all fell into place. Almost literally. It seemed like the entire multiverse was thumped on the side in an attempt to get it to work right. More likely I'm the one that got thumped.<p>

Although it didn't feel like a thump. It felt like I had one foot planted firmly but the other was moving slowly away. Except it wasn't physical; the sensation was more fundamental. I hesitate to use the word soul, but that's what felt like was being stretched. It didn't really hurt, but it didn't feel good, either. It was like my essence was being stretched out like a bungee cord. And bungee cords have to snap back.

It hurt.

* * *

><p>And my memories screamed at me for a few seconds. Everything that didn't make sense suddenly did. Of course, they didn't come back easy; I curled up into a ball and let the info reassert itself and groaned as deactivated neurons started firing again.<p>

I suddenly realized I wasn't in some really weird dream. I was interpreting a Taint infection and my attempts to fight it the only way my subconscious could. It explained the zombies, the mall, the desperate runs from safe room to safe room, the zombies breaking through anyway. Except they weren't zombies, they were darkspawn. And it explained the bite on my arm. I looked at my arm; the infection – the Taint – was up past my elbow and disappeared under my sleeve. I pulled the sleeve up; the infection was to my shoulder. I looked up and saw my reflection staring back at me from a mirror behind the bar. I looked pretty wrung out. Eyes wild with heavy, dark bags, what little hair I had was a mess, scratches and bruises all over me.

And it explained the redhead. I remembered what she'd done:

She reached with a delicately clawed hand and placed her palm on my forehead. The smile showed teeth again. "Perhaps we can."

My free hand reached up and caught D-Amy's wrist. "What are you doing?"

Amy smiled at me. For a change it wasn't predatory. "Severing your connection with this world."

"You can do that? Wait – I mean – what does that even mean?"

"Your world is far from here. Even in the Fade where distance means little, it is far. And your connection to this world makes that distance even greater." The smile turned slightly predatory. "My action will lessen that distance."

"How do you know…?" I didn't even know what to ask. Or how to ask it.

"Believe me when I say know." Amy looked to the side.

I followed her gaze to the black cloud.

[join us]

"Hell, no." I looked back at Amy. "Do it."

The Fade faded and turned into hot, bright light.

* * *

><p>"He's seizing!"<p>

* * *

><p>"Fool!" D-Amy hissed.<p>

"Fuck you!" I moaned. I was still dealing with the rush of memories. And the knowledge of what had just happened.

She stuck her face back in mine. "You are a fool! I brought you this far and you-"

"Fuck you! It wasn't like they gave me a choice!"

"Had you simply-"

"Fuck you!" I raised the rifle and aimed it shakily. "What do I do?"

"Go home." Amy looked about nervously. "Whatever else you choose to do, go home. And quickly!"

"What-"

"Now!" she hissed and bared her teeth. Not in a smile. I think it was a warning. "You have little time!" She hissed again and ran back to the kitchen. "Hurry!"

* * *

><p>I stared at my Swiss Army knife. Every tool, every gadget on was in perfect shape. Everything opened and closed smoothly and worked perfectly. I was definitely in the Fade.<p>

But hadn't I just drunk a Joining potion? And, apparently, survived? Wasn't there more to it than this?

I went through the reality check again.

And what about Amy and the connection that she severed? Was getting home still an option? I only had a mile or so to go. Then again, was it ever an option?

Reality check. Results negative. Or at least negative enough.

"Jeffrey?" Neria's voice was worried and hopeful at the same time. "Are you all right?"

I blinked and coughed and blinked again. Neria was sitting at the bar looking worriedly at me, but she wasn't wearing her usual robes. She was dressed the way you'd expect a girl to be dressed in a bar on early-21st century Earth: a snug, dark green t-shirt that revealed a bit of belly, and tight, but not sprayed-on, jeans, with a pair of calf-length high-heeled boots. Her hair was down but tied back in a single ponytail; she was clean and had the glow of a recent bath. I know now it was me projecting my preconceptions on to her, but at the time….

"Neria? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look hot like that."

She sat and breathed loudly and impatiently, but didn't answer.

I tried again. "Can you hear me?"

Neria spoke again. "Is he…?"

Alistair was still there, but wearing a gray polo shirt and jeans, and he took that as a cue to answer. "He's alive, but he'll need some time to recover. You did. He should too."

"Could he…?"

Neither of them were particularly animated, but Alistair shrugged. (I think.) "I've heard that some Wardens never wake up after their Joining, but that's only happened when-"

There was a moment of silence before Neria finished the line. "When there's a Blight?"

Another moment of silence, then Alistair said, "Yes."

So what did that mean for me? I had no clue. When I leave the Fade I'd fall asleep (for lack of a better term) there or find my body and jump back into it. But this time, such as it was, the only me around was me. Unless Amy was right, and I needed to get home.

I didn't know what would happen when I got there, but that's where I needed to go.

I picked up the rifle, checked the load, and checked myself. As far as I could tell everything was good. I nodded to my interpretations of the Wardens. "Thanks, but I'm going home."

* * *

><p>I emptied the magazine as I backed out of a creek bed, buttstroked one last zombie, and spun and sprinted down the dirt road towards another arrow, reloading as I went. I missed the next arrow but it didn't matter; I knew exactly where I was going. I didn't bother going all the way to my gate, instead I just vaulted the fence in the corner of my yard and ended up flat on my face because I tripped on the wire. Yeah, it hurt, but I got myself to my feet just as the horde behind me piled up against the fence. There was just one more short sprint to the carport. I bounced off the Impreza and the corner of the house, ignored the pain and took the last couple of steps to the door.<p>

It was locked.

"Fuck!"

I dug into my pockets for my keys but they were empty, and when I looked up I was face to face with the horde. I half-emptied the magazine, did a one-eighty, and emptied the rest of the magazine. But I couldn't get a reload in; I ended up going hand to hand as I tried smashing the door's window. I was pummeled by rotting fists, and one of them dug a gouge out of my arm, and claws dug into my chest.

Yes, it hurt.

I shoved darkspawn zombies off me and went over backwards. I ended up on a cold, hard floor and had a half second to wonder just what happened and how I was going to get the door closed.

The door slammed shut on its own. Well, not on its own, because someone threw a bar into place as well. I just laid on the floor wishing the pain would go away.

A pair of bare and very large feet appeared in front of me. "Well done!" The voice was deep, and rumbling, and sounded sinisterly jovial. A large hand appeared and reached for me. It grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me up.

"Geez, dude!"

"A small measure of gratitude would be in order; I did just save your worthless life." Still jovial, but only in tone. The giant dragged me across a room and flung me into a chair. I hit and bounced off it; the chair fell over and I ended up on the floor again. I heard the chair scrape then groaned as I was picked up and placed – slightly more gently this time – in it.

I was still panting, but needed to know what I was up against now. I wasn't home; I'm pretty sure I never had an art deco/Roman chic fusion thing going on in my living room. It was lit from some unknown source; not brightly, but more than comfortably enough. The room itself was circular, with columns spaced evenly along the walls. I looked back at the door I'd entered through; it was the only thing really out of place. About ten feet in front of me was a low table with a chessboard on it; things didn't appear to be going well for white. Behind the table was a chair, and beyond the chair were two doors that fit the style of the room, although one was white and the other red.

And then there was the giant. Remember forever ago when I described Alistair as damn? Well, this guy took damn, turned it up to 13, and added a few extra syllables. He was easily a head taller than Sten, ripped like an extra from 300, and had a head of brown hair that went down to his shoulders in the back. The hairdo didn't matter, the guy made his mullet look good. He sat in the chair opposite me. His presence made the table snap into scale; it was only low in comparison to the chair the giant was using. He leaned forward and contemplated the chessboard. The only sound was my breathing and the quiet tap of my blood hitting the floor.

He finally reached forward and was about to touch a black bishop when I interrupted him. "I guess I should say thanks."

His hand froze and he looked at me with dark eyes. "It is customary for guests to show more respect." He looked back at the chessboard.

"Is it customary to throw guests across the room?"

The dark eyes considered me again. "It is not. But it is not customary for guests to simply charge in uninvited."

I'd peeled off my shirt and was wrapping it around my arm. "You opened the door. You didn't have to let me in."

"You are absolutely correct. I had no need to let you in. But I did have the desire." He went back to studying the chessboard.

I refused the bait and continued wrapping my arm. The Taint was all the way up on my shoulder; I assume it was on my neck. When I finished I stood up and approached the table and took a look at the position. White was in trouble; if black was to move I could see a couple of potential checkmates. But white had some outs; maybe it would just prolong the game, but that gives the opponent the chance to make a mistake, which gives you a chance to at least pull out a draw.

"I take it you play?" the giant asked.

"I do."

"That explains why it's here."

I didn't know how to answer that.

He leaned back and looked at me over steepled fingers. "You. Are. Different." He leaned forward quickly; very quickly despite his mass. I jumped backwards, but he didn't come at me; he just continued studying me. "You shape the Fade to your expectations." He gestured vaguely behind me. "Strange as it may be." He stood and started walking around the table towards me. "And that leads to the question: what are you?"

I was tempted to say 'Human?' but I was distracted by his walk. Seductive and dangerous. I slowly started backing away.

"Sit!"

I didn't _have_ to, but I did. He walked up to and around me. "Human, apparently. Blessed, most definitely. And yet…."

"Blessed?"

"By the corruption."

"Blessed by corruption?"

The giant snorted. "Are you a fool? The corruption courses through your veins, screaming for release, yet your will holds it in check. That is a blessing." He waved behind me again. "When you-" He knelt and stared closely at me. He nodded, apparently having made up his mind about something. "You were not easy to catch." He turned and walked around behind the table. "And now you're wondering why I wanted to catch you."

I felt like I was at a job interview. "It hadn't occurred to me to even consider it until just now."

"Have you considered not fighting the blessing, but rather surrendering to it?"

I was guessing that by blessing/corruption he meant the Taint. "I didn't think that was a real option. I mean, I can end up as a Grey Warden, a darkspawn, or die of the Taint. Warden is the best choice that I can see. Provided I can't get home." I looked around the strange room. "Speaking of which…."

He looked around the room. "You are home. Or as close as you can get. There is-" He stopped speaking and looked around. A small smile came over his face and he looked back at me. "There is another option."

So it was a job interview. "Let me guess: work for you?"

"I was right: you are not a fool."

"Actually, I might still be. Who are you?"

That brought a smile to his face. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

"No, I haven't."

"My name is Urthemiel."

It sounded familiar but…. "How do I know that name?"

The smile turned to disbelief. Disbelief turned to anger. He stood – slowly – and unfolded his presence until I felt the pressure against the core of my being. Do you know now?

I'm not sure if I heard it or felt it, but I knew. "One of- One of the- Tevinter- Old Gods. And the- Archdem- Demon."

"Archdemon. Is that how you know me? Appropriate, I suppose." Urthemiel sat down and the pressure on me released. "Very good. Now as to my offer: understand first that your journey must continue, but I offer you a choice of directions. Take the door to my left and the blessing will consume you."

I involuntarily glanced down and saw the Taint crawling across my chest. I looked back up.

The Archdemon continued as if I hadn't looked away. "You will not awaken, at least not as yourself. You will become yet another of my minions, completely subject to my will." He gestured to the white door. "Take this one and you will awaken; this I promise you. Oh, you will still serve me, but you will still have the spark of who you are. And I will grant you the opportunity to use your talents while in my service."

The Archdemon just offered me a job.

Yeah, you read that right. I just sat there not reacting.

"Two things to help your decision. First: your companions." He said the word simply without any sneering or disdain that you'd expect from an evil overlord. He reached out and plucked a black bishop off the chessboard and examined it carefully. "They escape my realm to do what they will."

Only to have me take them down at a later time. And I would, if things were to play out the way I thought they would. Not much of an incentive.

"Second-" He stood and walked over to the white door. He opened it and-

"Neria?"

She was back in her normal clothing, but she walked into the room as if she were dazed. The demon offered her his arm; she took it and quivered at his touch. He escorted her around the table stopping only a long step away from me.

Neria was breathing heavily, her face flushed, and her eyes fixed on me. But her arm was shaking under the Archdemon's touch, and her free hand was massaging her thigh.

_What the fuck?_ was all I could think.

Urthemiel didn't miss a beat during all this. "I offer you the blessed female. She cares for you and, I believe, you for her. All you have to do is make arrangements to have her taken – safely, I would assume – and she is yours for as long as you want her."

No, no, no.

He must have read something on my face, because the bastard grinned. "Oh, come now. She is pleasing to look upon, isn't she?" He released Neria's arm and reached his hands up to her collar. Without effort Urthemiel ripped the tunic open and off Neria, and then her trousers as well, making sure to tear off her underclothes. He stood behind Neria, his hands on her shoulders, and leaned down and whispered to her. She was already clearly aroused, but whatever he said or did made her shudder.

"Take her."

He shoved Neria towards me and she stumbled into my arms.

"See? Pleasing to hold, as well."

Neria looked up at me. Yeah, she was turned on. "Jeffrey?" Then she grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to hers.

I'm ashamed to say I kissed her back. By that time I had no doubt that the best case for me would be not waking up at all. I don't know what Neria was experiencing, but for me it was one last chance at human contact before breaking through to whatever other side I'd be ending up at. Yeah, I enjoyed it. She tasted like life.

The moment finally, sadly, ended. Neria was looking up at me with a hungry gleam in her eyes and panting so hard she was sucking the breath out of my mouth. She tried to pull me into another kiss but I grabbed her hair and put my mouth next to her ear.

"Neria!" I whispered as loudly as I dared. "You need to wake up; do you understand me?"

"This is a dream?"

"Yes, it is! You need to wake up, and run! Back to Orzammar. Don't worry about me."

Her lips tickled my ear. "No one gets left behind."

I pushed her away and slapped her. I could see the handprint even against the red of her face. "I'm sorry."

I saw the sucker punch just before she threw it. I caught Neria's arm and spun her around, pinning her against my chest. I stopped caring about Urthemiel; besides, he was just standing there watching with a curious smile. "You're dreaming! Wake up, and run!"

She moaned and shoved her ass into my crotch. Any other time Well, you know.

"Take her. She wants you. And, in case you were wondering, I'm doing nothing to her. Her reactions are…genuine."

"You said…you did something to her."

"I merely told her you were waiting for her. She did the rest herself."

Neria sighed and leaned her head back against my shoulder. She turned her face towards me and somehow nibbled at my neck. I could feel the heat of her breath and skin against me; it didn't help that I wasn't wearing a shirt. One of her hands was grabbing at my hip; the other was in my crotch. All I'd have to was take my hands off her arm and shoulder and

"That door, right?" I nodded at the white one; the one Neria had come in through.

"Yes," Urthemiel answered simply.

I somehow, between being groped and dealing with my own involuntary responses, managed to frog-march Neria over to the door. "Open it," I told her, but she didn't listen. Fine. I spun her around and shoved her against the wall next to the door and pinned her there by her shoulders.

Neria stared back at me with pure lust. "You want me."

I reached for the door latch. "Not this way." I pulled the door open then struggled to untangle her from me. "Maybe on the other side. Now wake up!" I shoved her back through the door and slammed it closed behind her.

I leaned forward and rested my head against the door and thought dark thoughts.

"That took a remarkable amount of will."

I left my head against the door. "I'm not going to rape my friend. Even if she wants me to."

"And that takes a remarkable amount of loyalty."

"Of course I'm fucking loyal to her; she's my goddamn friend!"

"That loyalty…. Perhaps I can grant more autonomy than I originally offered. After all, the depth of loyalty-"

"No."

"What?"

"No. I'm not taking the deal."

"Really?"

"Really."

Then you know what to do.

The force of the words knocked me to the floor.

"You can still change your mind, though."

"I've made up my mind."

"A pity." I heard him move slightly, and a chair scraped.

I pushed myself up to my knees and looked down. The Taint was spread across my chest, but I didn't feel any different. But then, maybe I wouldn't. I poked at the spot on my arm it had started at; it didn't hurt any more. Maybe it was too late. But didn't he say I had to go through that other door to be overcome by the Taint? What was I missing?

"Waiting won't change the outcome."

He'd called me a Grey Warden. Well, not in so many words, but he'd said I was holding back the corruption. That implied I'd already overcome the Taint.

"Come now. Waiting will not change your choices."

I'd done that by willpower. And the aid of a shot (from the more-or-less-real world) of Joining juice.

"Although your decision isn't final until you close the door behind you-" –you need to decide.

I was sprawled out again, but still trying to think. I was trapped in my own head and needed to figure out how to escape. If I was really shaping the Fade then this room might have been mine, but Urthemiel beat me to it, and he changed it somehow. And that meant I didn't put those doors there; they weren't an option. The entry door; that was mine. So was the yard, and the path I took to get here, and the restaurant, and everything else up to then. Those were mine. Well, except for the darkspawn zombies.

Choose.

I moaned from the pressure, then rolled over and sat up. Urthemiel regarded me with curious malevolence then looked back to the chessboard.

"I'll take the third option," I said.

He didn't even look up. "There is no third option."

"There's always a third option."

"Not this time."

I took a deep breath, released it, found my center, and thought. I'd had enough practice that the rifle just appeared, albeit with one difference. I checked that difference and found exactly what I'd wanted. But I knew I'd only get one shot at this, so I had to make it count. I pushed myself to my feet and stood up. "White to move," I said. I released the bolt catch and felt the round chamber.

The Archdemon looked up at me with words in his mouth, but stopped when he saw the rifle. "What is that?"

"M16A1." My finger was already on my little friend's trigger. I started to squeeze. "This is-."

I'll give Urthemiel credit: he realized what I was doing before I did it. It was a race to see which of us could react first. He won.

Release your wea-

But I'd already aimed at him, and the pressure of his being caused me to pull the grenade launcher's trigger. The buckshot round fired and caught Urthemiel in the right side of his chest. He screamed in anger and pain; I staggered backwards. It was a race to see who'd recover first. I won. I got the rifle back down just as the physical (such as it was) scream turned psychic and held down the trigger. Most of the shots hit, and despite his size, had the desired effect. The scream cut off as he fell to the ground thrashing in agony. I didn't bother to reload; I leaped across the table, somehow missing the chessboard, and ran for the door I'd come in through. I pulled the bars, opened it, and sprinted into my driveway. Zombies/darkspawn were still about, but the horde was just moving about randomly. I didn't stop to shoot any of them; they weren't reacting to me. I ran back off the property and up the road and turned left at the mailboxes. I'd just dropped into the creek bed when I heard a crash and a roar and the scream of way too many angry voices in harmony with one really pissed off one. I'm sure more darkspawn were on the way, but all the noise was coming from behind me. I have no idea what it was because I wasn't stupid enough to look back.

I didn't need long to get back to the restaurant; fear's a great motivator. I slammed the door behind me and locked it and shoved a chair against it. The answer had to be in there, but I figured I'd need all the time I could get.

"Anybody here?" I ran through the dining room and collided with the nurse from before.

She didn't react to the impact but rather gave me a sympathetic look. "You're all right, but you need to calm down."

"Where's the way out?" I shouted.

She rubbed my forehead with a cloth.

There was a thump at the front door. I left the dining room and headed for the bar and hoped I'd find an answer; I'd either figure this out in a few seconds or I never would. I looked around the room and saw the mirror behind the bar.

Urthemiel said I'd shaped the Fade to my expectations. I don't know if the mirror had been the way out earlier, but it had to be now; it was the only place I could see myself. My unblemished reflection stared back at me with crazed eyes from behind a row of Technicolor bottles. I snatched a glass off the bar and threw it at the mirror; it exploded but left the mirror intact. I leaped over the bar, reached for the mirror, and felt myself fall until I was lying on my back with a bright light pushing through my eyelids.

I didn't know or care where I was. I did know that wherever I'd ended up bore some semblance to some level of reality because I was in pain. My shoulder, my knee, my arm all hurt enough to overshadow the aches from the rest of my body. And I was hungry; it felt like I hadn't eaten anything in a month.

"Jeff, can you hear me? How do you feel?"

"I'm alive," I croaked through a dry mouth and swollen tongue, but wasn't sure how I felt about that. I decided I'd figure it out when I knew where and when I was, so I opened my eyes.

* * *

><p><em>AN: A long but successful road trip is behind me; the younger spawn graduated basic training. And if you're wondering: yes, we did present him with a plush Rainbow Dash. The drill sergeants were amused._

**Errant Knight:** _Glad you're enjoying the story so far. I obviously can't give away any spoilers, but I'm going to make sure everything makes sense._

**GlysMari, Phygmalion, SnowHelm, Dur'id the Druid: Beta Reader** _and I collaborated on some fiction before and she's always liked my ability to write dream sequences. This one's a bit more literal than most, though._

**BROvolone:** _oh, I totally agree._

**zorc62:** _That's an interesting thought about emergency Joinings, but you'd only have enough of the potion to take care of one or two people. _**Beta Reader**_ has a small hourglass-style necklace that holds a reasonable volume. I did a few experiments (with water, not tequila) to make some sense of just how much liquid would be in the Wardens' pendants and figured there would be enough to pull off a Joining, although throwing in Avernus' potion probably couldn't hurt._

**Mercsenary:** _Bioware did recycle the plot but I think it was more a case of how much they could torment Hawke by taking away family members rather than trying to give the player some grief about losing companions. Makes me wonder if they'll try it for DA3._

**Oplindenfep:** _don't know if Jeff's tripping balls, but maybe this chapter answered that question._

**Rc1212 & AD Lewis:** _ thank you! Hope this chapter was intense as well._

**Gillian Grayson:** _I was deliberately trying to throw some confusion into the mix; looks like I succeeded. But in all seriousness, I hope this chapter raised the stakes a bit._

**Riptide Monzarc:** _Jeff's not-so-final fate will be revealed next chapter. And you're quite welcome for the shout-out!_

**Rioshisama: ** _another epic review! I'll consider what you wrote and send you answers at the end of next chapter._


	78. Around the Horn, Part II

I stared at my therapist with a helpless expression. "And that's what happened. I know it sounds insane but trust me, I'm not. At least, I don't think I'm insane. I've certainly thought I was a few times, and I'd understand if you said I was. And I'm wondering if it was the demon that somehow got me home or if I did it myself. Or if I was really home to begin with."

"Whatever you thought was happening to you certainly seemed real enough to you, but you were here. You were deceived."

I hadn't told Leliana absolutely everything, but I certainly told her enough to get the idea of what had happened. Or appeared to happen. Or what I'd thought had happened. "But, somehow, at least it felt like it, I think-"

Leliana tilted her head and her voice turned hard. "You were fooled. Even after you were warned not to place your trust in demons, you - you were hoping it could help you cheat your fate, and you nearly allowed yourself to be taken. You need to thank Alistair for preventing that; he surrendered an item of great import to help you."

And that was something else to think about. "I know." I looked across the cavern and caught Alistair's eye. He gave me a serious nod; I returned it with what I hoped was a small smile. I'm not mad at the guy; he was trying to do the right thing. But my head's not on straight right now and…I don't know."

Leliana's gaze suddenly turned into a passable version of Wynne's disapproving stare. "There are things you are not telling me. Do you not trust me?"

"I do, but…."

Red sighed and the stare disappeared. "I believe you when you say that." She gave me a warm smile that I think was supposed to be reassuring. "You had an experience that has shaken your resolve."

"Yeah, you could say that."

The smile broadened. "I will not ask you to tell me of what you do not wish to, but-" Leliana shook her head. "But I am here should you need someone in which to confide."

I gave her a frustrated smile. "Thanks, but-"

"Speak to me when you are ready. I will be here for you. But for now you must have more faith in yourself."

* * *

><p>Oghren extended a beefy paw to me. "On your feet, shaper!"<p>

I pulled myself up with his help and nodded my thanks.

"Good to have you back with us. Now just make sure you don't do anything too stupid or too brave and get anybody killed."

"That's definitely not my intention."

"Good! Now here-" He slapped my journal into my hand. "Couldn't get Red to stop writing in it so I took it from her."

"Thanks."

Oghren kept going. "And no, I didn't read it. They're your memories."

That answered the question I hadn't asked.

Oghren shrugged. "At least 'til you put'em in the Shaperate. Hmph! I think you should put'em in the Shaperate's, but that's your business. I think you should, though. Red, too. We've seen a lot down here, and you've both had a lot to say about it."

"I'll, uh, have to think about that."

"You do that. Oh, and think about something else for me, would you?"

"What's that?"

"Ask missy and pretty boy if they've got any more of that stuff you drank. I got to taste the leftovers and it's not bad."

* * *

><p>"If I understand this right you punched the Archdemon in the nose. Hard. And got away with it."<p>

I nodded. "For now." No telling what's going to happen next time.

Alistair shook his head and leaned in closer as he cinched up a strap on my armor. "I didn't see the Archdemon in my Joining dream. I climbed a cliff out of a sea of darkspawn that were trying to pull me back down. No dragon, no giant. I certainly didn't talk to anything; I was too busy trying to live."

"But haven't you – you know, dreamed about the Archdemon since then?"

"Only since Ostagar. But it was…well, a lot scarier than what you described."

"Trust me, I was scared."

Alistair just stared at me for a moment. "I believe you," he finally said. "I would be, too." He went back to helping me gear up. "You know, I feel really strange calling you 'brother.'" Alistair cinched up another strap. "Maybe I should be saying 'father.' Or 'uncle.'"

"If that's a crack about my age…." I had no idea where that was going so I just shut up.

"Are you all right?" Alistair leaned in and whispered. "I mean, about being a Warden now. I heard Neria apologize, but…."

We both glanced over to where Neria was stuffing something into her pack. She felt our eyes and looked up, and then she jerked her attention back to what she doing. I didn't think she was embarrassed about what happened when I dreamed, but I have to find out. I think she's more upset about what she had to do for me. Or to me. "I'm sorry," she'd whispered loudly, "but it was the only way."

I sighed as I considered Alistair's words. I wasn't worried about the Warden lifespan. I'm just shy of fifty; that's a damn good age to reach in this society; thirty more would put me in the ancient plus category. Even at home that's not too bad. But if they hadn't given me the potion maybe I'd be home now. I think. And I shouldn't be angry at the Wardens but I am. Not for doing what they thought needed to be done, but instead for wrecking that small maybe-chance that I'd had.

"I'm still getting used to the idea."

And that's true too. I keep hearing this pressure in the back of my head. Almost like something's there and just watching and it's making an inaudible ringing that's just at the edge of my vision. It's gotta be that Warden-sensing-darkspawn thing, but it's weird. And Alistair says it'll take some time to fully kick in.

And speaking of Alistair, he looked a little hurt at my words.

I must have snapped at him without realizing it. "I'm sorry. I'm not-"

Alistair shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I know not everybody thinks being a Grey Warden is such an honor." His eyes flicked towards Neria. "But-"

"But you did this to save my life. I understand, and…thanks. For everything." I wasn't sure I really meant it, though.

Alistair gave me a careful smile. "You're welcome." He clapped me on the shoulder. "For better or worse you're a Grey Warden now." He grinned. "And you're the junior member of the order. That means I can boss you around."

I narrowed my eyes and tightened my lips.

"Er, maybe not. I mean, you've still got a lot of experience that I don't, and Neria's really the one in charge, and I don't think I'm really suited to giving orders. I mean, that's why Neria's in charge, and not me. Although…."

I'd interrupted with a raised hand. "Chain of command stays the same; we've been working pretty well together and I don't wanna disrupt the dynamic. But you-" I pointed directly at Alistair's chest. "-you need to start getting used to giving orders. Just in case. So start bossing."

* * *

><p>I woke up with the sense somebody was watching me. Somebody was. Neria was sitting a few feet away with an unhappy look on her face.<p>

Cullen was sitting slightly in front of her and watching me like I was a ham sandwich. It was a little unnerving. He'd been keeping his distance from me since I woke up; this was the closest he been since then.

"Hey," I said. "Everything all right?"

"I'm sorry," Neria said softly.

I think she meant the Joining she'd forced on me but I reacted to the possibility that she'd somehow snatched me away from home.

"Don't be like that. Please. I only did it to save your life."

I sighed deeply. I'm pretty sure I was projecting anger.

"But you're a Warden now," Neria continued, "and I'm sorry about that. But you're alive, and here, and we need you."

I just shook my head. It was like the fourth or fifth time she'd apologized for Joining me.

Neria misinterpreted the head shake. "We do need you. Oh, Maker, _I_ need you! I don't think I can get through this without you." She suddenly dropped her eyes to the ground. "I'm just glad you're okay, but I _am_ sorry."

I heard the lightest touch of a feathery whisper waft up the tunnel. I glanced into the darkness.

"I know. I hear it, too, but a lot more right now. And louder. You'll be able to hear it clearly soon."

"I'm not sure I want to."

"It said, 'Come home, children.'" Neria shuddered and hugged herself.

"You okay?"

"Just – just tired."

"Yeah, I know. Me, too."

"Too much fighting, too much darkness, too much rock, _far_ too much darkspawn."

"Don't worry, we'll be back in Orzammar soon." I was still ticked at her but reached a hand out.

[soft growl]

"Cullen!" Neria thumped the dog's snout. "Stop that!"

[petulant moan], then the Mabari's nose twitched.

"Oh, come on! This is Jeff! You know him!"

Cullen softly snorted then sniffed disdainfully.

"Well," I said, "I'm different now. Maybe that's what he's picking up on."

"You're still you, though." Neria suddenly moved to sit beside me.

[jealous whine]

"That's right," the girl said. "I'm sitting by Jeff. Now you can stay there or oof!"

Cullen moves pretty quick when he wants to and he practically jumped into Neria's lap. Still gave me a 'no sudden moves' stare, though.

Neria ignored the warning and snatched up my hand. She shoved it into the dog's nose. "See, still Jeffrey. He's still a friend."

Cullen pulled away, his nose wrinkling as if I smelled fouler than I thought I did and a confused expression in his eyes. He bit very gently at me; even if he'd connected it wouldn't have hurt.

"Cullen!"

"Don't," I said evenly. "He didn't hurt me, and I think he needs to get used to me again."

Neria sighed. "Because you're a Warden?"

"Yeah, because I'm a Warden."

[soft growl]

"That's it." Neria made a shooing motion. "Go…I don't know. Bother Wynne."

Cullen's ears pricked up. [quiet, questioning whine]

Neria rolled her eyes. "Yes."

The dog scrambled to his feet and stretched and strolled away while oozing nonchalance. If he could have whistled while walking over towards Wynne he would have. And then….

"Ah! You blasted dog!"

Cullen hopped away with Wynne's staff in his mouth and shook it.

"Ow! You sodding beast! I'll roast you like a nug!"

Neria actually smiled. I had a hard time not smiling myself.

But I turned serious again far too quickly. "There was something I need to tell you about. About my Joining dream. When I met the Archdemon."

"I thought you told us about that."

"Well, there's a bit more. Remember I told you the Archdemon wanted me to become a darkspawn and, I guess, be his general?"

"Are you sure that's what happened?" Neria shook her head. "Nothing like that happened to me. I was just standing on a hilltop looking down at a sea of darkspawn and suddenly there was a dragon right in my face. It roared at me and I fell backwards and felt hands just grabbing at me. And then I woke up. It didn't talk to me or anything like that."

"It talked to me. And I didn't tell you and Alistair everything about what it said." I glanced around. Nobody was listening; the others were either sleeping or watching Wynne scold Cullen. "The Archdemon, it, um, offered me…you." I felt heat rising into my face.

"Maker." Even in the dim light I could see the flush starting across Neria's face.

I pushed the words out steadily. "He offered to turn me into a boss darkspawn and then he opened a door and you walked out. Or something that looked a lot like you. And then-"

Neria buried her face in her knees and moaned.

"So it was you?"

"Um-hm."

"That's what I was afraid of. But you were…." I waited a moment. "Neria? Are you okay?"

"Um-uh."

"You don't need to be embarrassed."

"Um-hm."

"I should be; not you."

"Um-hm."

"I don't know what you were feeling, but I shouldn't have kissed you, but I was so damn scared."

"Um-hm."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, but…I'm sorry."

"Bum um duh dum."

"And I won't let anything – especially the Archdemon – hurt you. I promised Alistair I'd take care of you in Denerim, and that promise is still good. And now I'm making it to you."

"Pum uh."

I had no idea what to say or do at that point. I still don't. Give me something easy like a couple of privates talking about each other's moms and I'll bust heads as needed.

So I took a chance and reached over and gave her a very light and_ very_ platonic touch on her shoulder. She didn't flinch; I guess that was a good sign. "We'll talk some more later, okay?"

"Um-hm."

* * *

><p>"You survived."<p>

"I did."

"Yet you do not seem pleased at this outcome."

"Would you be?"

Sten considered his words before giving a simple answer. "I would be alive, and still able to complete my duty to the Qun."

"And you'd also be a Grey Warden."

"I would be a Grey Warden in name only. My ultimate loyalty has, and always will, lie with the Qun. But you: where does your loyalty lie?"

Home, but I didn't think Sten wanted to hear that. "I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me, but-" I broke off with a sigh.

"Are your loyalties now conflicted?"

"No. At least I don't think so. But I think I need to have a long talk with Alistair and Neria. There's-" I sighed again. "There's things involved with being a Warden that aren't really common knowledge."

Sten nodded. "A wise course of action. Circumstances have dictated a change in your role."

I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say you wouldn't change your role? Why should I change mine?"

"I am of the Qun. You are not. Like other basra you are unsettled and confused. For once this state should be considered an advantage. Accept, with certainty, your new role."

I couldn't argue with logic like that.

* * *

><p>Wynne's warm hand squeezed my forearm and gently pushed healing energy into me. When she pulled her hand away there was a fine, dark line paralleling the fine, pale one. She frowned and ran a tingling finger over the dark scar, but nothing changed.<p>

I flexed my arm. "Doesn't hurt."

Wynne _hmmed_. "It doesn't look healed, but it feels like it is." She reached up and caressed the wound from Neria's punch. "This will probably leave a scar. They both will."

I shrugged. "Chicks dig scars." I had to force the lightness into my voice.

Wynne rolled her eyes at that; she's heard enough of my slang that she understood exactly what I'd meant. "Too many of them do. At least we don't have that problem here."

"Except for maybe Zevran." I did smile a little at my quip.

Wynne smiled too. "The elf…digs anyone with a pulse."

I dropped the smile. "Thanks." I started to turn away. "I'll-"

"You're a Grey Warden now."

I jerked to a stop. "That's not something I'm really…thinking about right now."

"You need to. For good or bad, you now have a duty beyond keeping the young ones safe." Wynne started with the stare, but broke it off.

My thoughts went off at right angles. "They are young, aren't they?"

A nod from the mage. "Very much so. Neria hasn't reached her twentieth summer, and I doubt Alistair is much older. But-"

"They're both too young. They should be…I don't know, but they should be doing anything but this."

Wynne nodded again and she spoke soberly. "They've grown up too fast the last few months. But you-"

I ignored her and thought about the kids. I shouldn't think of them that way, but they are. "I need to have a talk with them. A long talk."

"About their – about your duty?"

"Among other things," I answered distractedly.

"Are you well?"

I'd just had a good look at my mortality, and now suddenly thought I knew why I was here. "No."

* * *

><p>"Mio amico, it's good to see you well again, but I feel your spirit may need more time to recover."<p>

"Thanks, but I…."

"But you what? Agree with me?"

"Yeah. I guess."

Zevran gave me a sober look. It was light years away from his usual sardonic expression. "Mio amico, you have dodged a most unpleasant fate. True, you have earned a new one, but being a Warden is not so bad, no?" He shrugged. "And take comfort in the knowledge that I am under no obligation to kill you."

"Dodged," I said. "Feels more like I cheated."

A tilt of the elf's head. "Cheated? In what way?"

I looked back down the passage and felt a whispering. "I was sick, and dying, and literally had zero chance of coming out of it alive, or at least as me, and then Neria poured the potion into me and a few hours later I'm a hundred percent good to go. It just feels…I don't know, like I cheated my way out of a bad spot in a game. Or more like someone wrote a deus ex machina for me."

Zevran tilted his head. "I'm not familiar with this phrase."

I explained.

"Ah." Zevran broke into a smile and fired off a string of Antivan. "'The desperate playwright's unwelcome friend.'" He kept smiling and shook his head. "There was no cheating involved. Simply a desperato measure taken to save your life, and there was no certezza it would be enough. But-" He shrugged with his entire body. "-consider yourself lucky to have cheated fate - if that's the word you wish to use."

I shook my head. "I don't if I'm lucky or not. But that depends; can anyone actually cheat fate?"

"I don't believe so. However, when the odds are greatly stacked against one, one's possible fate becomes a near certain one. I wouldn't say you cheated, but I do relish the sight of one overcoming long odds. Fate, however, might have other things to say."

I kept shaking my head. "I don't really believe in fate."

"I don't either, mio amico. That's why I choose to make my own."

* * *

><p>A shadow fell across me as I wrote and I looked up with annoyed surprise. "What's this?"<p>

Morrigan simply stood there as she offered me a couple of items. "'Tis nought but a simple cup of tea. 'Tis not for aches, nor will it help you sleep. And, if you desire it, a bit of fruit. Dried, of course, but 'tis all I have."

I responded very slowly. "Thank you, but I thought we were long out."

Morrigan actually looked a little chagrined. "I have been carefully rationing my supply. I…wish to share it."

"With me?"

"You are deserving."

I held her eyes for a moment. "This isn't necessary, you know."

Morrigan started to look and sound irritated. "As I said, I am indebted to you-"

"And as I said, you aren't."

"You acted-"

"I acted because I needed to. Because someone on the team was in trouble. You'd have done the same for me." When there was no answer I added, "You would have, wouldn't you?"

Morrigan pressed her lips tightly together then answered hesitantly. "I…do not know. Had you been a Warden at the time, certainly."

That gave me a chill.

Morrigan continued. "And yet I helped the dwarves recover you."

"And what did they say when I thanked them?"

"'Anytime,' is what I recall Safa saying."

"And that's what I'm saying to you. You need help like that; well, 'anytime'. But I'd expect you to do the same for me. Or any of the others."

Morrigan tilted her head. "Provided my doing so would not endanger you or the other Wardens?"

Another chill, but I agreed. "Yes."

We were both quiet while we digested that thought, then Morrigan spoke again. "Then you have my thanks. Again."

I gave her a tired smile and nod. "Anytime."

Morrigan gave me the tiniest of smiles. "Would you accept a small gift? 'Tis nought but a cup of tea and a bit of fruit."

I'd been trying not to drool at the sight of the dried pear. "I'd love it. Thank you."

"You are welcome."

* * *

><p>[welcoming hiss]<p>

"You know, I never thought I'd be happy to see some kind of demonic, alien, lizard…bug…whatever the hell it is you are. But where were you when I needed you?"

[extended hiss]

"Okay, do you understand me? Cause sometimes I understand you. I think."

[appreciative hiss]

"Like just then. I could have sworn you said thanks." I looked around the bubble. No dark clouds, no darkspawn, nothing obviously dange rous and/or out of what passes for normal in the Fade.

[questioning hiss]

"I don't know. I do know I have a few things to say to her next time I see her. She's got some splainin' to do."

[another questioning hiss]

I plopped down on a convenient rock. "Long story, but I guess we've got time…."

So I told Thing what happened. I don't know how much he truly understood, but every so often he'd break in with a hiss that felt like a question. Then again, it might have been a concerned hiss, because I was also jumping up and pacing around and shouting angrily at times. But I drove through, and said what I had to say, and the venting felt good.

"…I don't know, but when I finally woke I was back in the Deep Roads. Everyone was there, and everyone looked relieved that I was alive and awake and…." Sigh. "I don't know. I don't know if I should be pissed that a way home – a _possible _way home – got yanked away, or should I be relieved that I didn't fall for whatever the demon was planning?"

[noncommittal hiss]

I gave Thing a sour stare. "You know, that sounded suspiciously like you don't know either. Any other thoughts?"

[questioning hiss]

"No, I don't know who invented liquid soap, and I definitely don't know why." Sigh and a facepalm. "Let's just run the clock out tonight, okay?"

[grumpy hiss]

* * *

><p>Another day; another pack of darkspawn. Not much to say about the fight, but during it I could <em>feel<em> the darkspawn swarming around us. Not immediately; Neria and Alistair felt them long before I did, and not strongly, but when they got close I could feel the pressure in my head, and I could also feel little pinpricks at the back of my brain as we took them down. And then, when we'd taken them all down, there was one last little tap and the pressure was gone.

And of course that little distraction got me hurt. No big deal, right? A thirty-second dose of magical healing beats an ER visit followed by an intensive care stay and weeks of physical therapy.

Except when I called for some help Neria turned around with a ball of power ready to go, saw me, and squeaked.

"It's not bad, but…." I nodded at my leg.

Neria turned bright red and tried to stare at her own navel.

"I haven't told anybody," I whispered, "so-"

Neria whipped around. "Wynne," she coughed. "Can you help Jeffrey?"

"Are you well?"

"I'm fine, just tired." She didn't quite choke on her answer.

Wynne strolled over with a confused look; Neria made a clean getaway.

"What," the older mage asked, "was that all about?"

"I think," I answered smoothly, "she's upset about making me a Warden. She was forced into it, and now she forced me into it."

Wynne still looked confused but started patching me up. "Regardless of what happened to her, she saved your life. You both should at least be happy about that."

I shrugged. "Maybe she feels guilty about it." The little voice in my head popped up with _and she should_. So, dammit, in spite of a clear and logical train of thought that says I shouldn't be pissed off I am anyway. I shouldn't feel bad about it; I think anybody'd be pissed about being stuck in this situation. But there goes that finely honed sense of guilt again. Sigh. I know I shouldn't blame people for things that aren't their fault, but

Oy.

At least beating down a herd of darkspawn is therapeutic.

Wynne said something I didn't catch.

Another sigh. "I don't know."

The mage patted my leg. "I think you need some time to get used to the change. And so do the others. I'll talk to Neria for you."

I wished her luck.

* * *

><p>"Come on!"<p>

I reached down from the ledge I was on and helped Alistair scramble up. Darkspawn clawed and grabbed at him but we were just a bit faster. I got Alistair safe then kicked a hurlock in the face. Its grasp failed and it fell and took some of its comrades as it did.

Alistair crawled to his feet, panting as he did, and looked at the cliff face above us. "Still a bit to go, eh?"

I turned and took a look. A steep slope covered with loose rock rose above us. There seemed to be top up there somewhere, but we couldn't see it. Below us were darkspawn. A lot of darkspawn. Too many to escape through, and they were climbing slowly behind us, so our only option was up.

"Yeah, a bit," I agreed through my own panting.

Alistair suddenly spun around and kicked away another darkspawn. "I think we should probably move on." He turned back around and pointed up the cliff. "That way looks promising."

I nodded. "Good idea."

We sprinted towards the cliff and scrambled up. We lost ground every time we moved, but there were enough handholds that, as long as we were careful, let us make steady progress through the loose rock.

"Don't look down!" Alistair called.

There was a growl from below me and something brushed my foot. I kicked, felt an impact, heard some fleshy impacts, and kept climbing. "Not planning on it!"

Alistair reached for a rock the size of his head and pried it from the scree. The boulder eased out of its pocket then dropped away. I heard squealing and thumping from behind and below as the rock and gravity double-teamed the darkspawn.

We went back to climbing and alternated between that and fending off the horde coming up behind us. The slope gradually became shallower, and we were soon able to start running, although we had one, last, short steep section to crawl up.

As I peeked over the last hump something thick and meaty wrapped itself around my neck and shoulders. Alistair yelled wordlessly as the same thing happened to him, and we were both dragged up the last few feet and were face to face with-

"Neria?" Alistair choked out.

Maybe it was her, or maybe it wasn't. But the broodmother had Neria's face under a layer of gray, leprous skin. Her eyes were black and hateful and glared at us with longing. "My children," she rasped out, and the tentacle wrapped around me gave me an obscene hug.

I protested with a weak cough and felt myself being pulled towards Neria's bulk. I tried fighting but the darkspawn horde had caught me and helped drag me towards Neria. A clawed hand reached out and caressed my cheek.

"Welcome home," she croaked, and ripped my face off as she screamed for my blood.

I sat up with a gasp, a racing heart, and a dry, bitter mouth. Neria sat up straight with wild eyes and a gasp of her own. Alistair was watching me and breathing deeply; I could see the sweat on his forehead. The three of us had a quick, silent conversation.

Did we just share that dream? Yeah? Everyone okay? Yeah.

Neria suddenly blushed and jumped up and headed for the other room of the waystation we were hunkering in.

Alistair watched her go and turned back to me. "First nightmare for you?"

I nodded. "More or less."

"Are you well?"

I held up a shaking hand. "Positive."

Alistair smiled apologetically. "Good to hear." He stood up and stretched.

"Is that what they're like?"

"No," he said. "They're usually worse."

* * *

><p><em>AN: This is a slow, quiet chapter, but I hesitate to call it filler because I think what I said here needed to be said. And I need to offer apologies for the long delay for this update. I was dealing with the after effects of a 2000-mile road trip, a severe case of writer's block, and a burning need to watch the entire 11-season run of_ **Hell's Kitchen** _(how come nobody's written any fanfic for that?)_. _Thanks for your patience and I hope to have the next update out fairly soon._

**Fierdin: ** _Jeff passed the black book on to Neria back in Chapter 34. Don't feel bad about missing it; the action was referenced in a single line._

**The Nemean Lion, Judy, Smugget:** _glad you're enjoying the story!_

**Qaletaqa, Dur'id the Druid, GlysMari:** _scary and trippy was exactly what I was going for. I'm happy you think I hit the mark._

**Orbatrix:** _like I said in my notes a chapter or two ago my main goal is to put out a good story. I've seen way too many promising ideas that just haven't panned out for one reason or another, and I'm trying to avoid the pitfalls I've seen snare both amateur and professional writers. One of those is giving up on the story; although I feel like I needed the break I took over the last month, I promise to close out_** MoN** _in a satisfactory manner even if I have to duct tape the keyboard to my hands. And thank you for the praise!_

**Roxy Anna Painter:** _ the pendants were an idea I'd had before even starting_ **MoN,** _and I'm happy I found a way to use them that didn't seem like a total ass pull. As for Alistair's royal revelation...that's a few chapters down the road._

**Addlcove, The Emerald Wanderer, Shahrazade, SnowHelm, Phygmalion:** _ like Alistair said: Jeff found a way to punch the Archdemon in the nose. I hope Neria's reaction is on; that was the primary thing causing the writer's block._ **Beta Reader** _gave me a lot of help with that, so a shout-out to her!_ [MINOR SPOILER] _Archie'll have something to say about that…. We'll have to see what happens with Morrigan's deal._

**Ethorin: ** _the "dead fucking darkspawn" line was literally the first thing I wrote for_ **MoN**. _It was inspired by the scarecrow Marty runs down in the first_ **Back to the Future** _movie. What do you think of the rest of the story so far?_

**dazedblackbird:** _I'll keep your caution in mind for future chapters. But I do have a bit of a dark side to me that's going to being coming out._

**Mazanti:** _ thanks for the compliment! Every so often I get into a mode where I'm thinking clearly but using military terms that may be unfamiliar to others._ **Beta Reader** _has a military background so she gets it, but we sometimes forget about the audience. If there's something I mention that you don't get feel free to ask via PM or review and I'll be glad to expound on it._

**Oplindenfep: ** _I can't really comment on Jeff's abilities except to say you've done some solid analysis on them._

**Macman6453: **_regarding the interview: I'd been thinking about what happens to Wardens who don't die during their calling, and what kind of nightmares they'd have during a Blight. What happened to Jeff seemed appropriate, but_ [MINOR SPOILER] _Urthemiel doesn't take rejection well._

**Deadzepplin:** [MINOR SPOILER] _Jeff's not familiar with_ **Warhammer 40K,** _but he is imaginative. Heh, heh._

**AD Lewis:** _'pull a kirk'; nice turn of phrase there. And I hope Neria's reaction (despite the trouble I had with it) didn't disappoint. Interesting thought on the Calling applying if Jeff makes it home, although I think we'd treat the Blight as a very scary viral infection. (See_ **Stargate: Origins** _for the type of reaction we have. Hmm, that reminds me: I need to update over there. [Although 1000 words there is tougher than 5000 here.])_

**Azrael Duke: ** _I was deliberately invoking the _'Did You Punch Cthulthu?' _trope, but the other stuff was out of my own head. In-game Alistair describes some of the darkspawn as 'more intelligent', and during the Ostagar cutscene we see the darkspawn army under direct, if somewhat lax, control. I have no doubt the Archdemon is intelligent, cunning, and charismatic, but those attributes would be tempered and warped by the Taint._

_Occasionally some of Jeff's diary will be in present tense, but my intention is to mostly write in past tense. However, when I get on a roll I don't really concern myself with tense as much as I do with getting the words down, and I don't usually catch that with an alpha read. _**Beta Reader **_(for some reason I've been typing that as 'Beat Reader' today) actually caught the tense confusion but thought I'd intended to do that._

**Rioshisama: ** _I'm still thinking about the Archdemon's motivations, but that keeps leading me back to where and how the Taint originated. What are the darkspawn's motives? Are they acting by instinct or does the Taint grant some type of collective intelligence? Are we dealing with a mostly mindless zombie horde or something more sinister? Does the Archdemon play a role similar to Starcraft's Kerrigan? Does the Taint itself have some underlying goal? Good questions, and I'm not sure I have the answers. (Maybe we'll learn some more in DA3.) But even with all this in mind the Archdemon is dangerous on its own, and is literally a terror with an army of darkspawn behind it. _


	79. Getting On With It, Part III

"You [dwarvish] rutting [dwarvish] sods [dwarvish] nug-humping [dwarvish]! I'll be [dwarvish] bent! And every one of you sods made it back! [dwarvish] made me rich!"

The unnamed guard manning the Orzammar gate shouted the above as we made a steady, badass, side-by-side power walk up the last few yards. The only way we would have looked cooler would be if there were explosions behind us. At least there weren't any darkspawn, although the wreckage outside the gate wasn't the way I'd remembered it.

"Didn't think any of you sods were coming back!" The gate commander gave us a once over. "It's been way too long. Good to see you back." He glanced around nervously then gave a 'whatever' shrug. "So, did you find the Paragon?"

The bunch of us exchanged looks. Neria started laughing – genuinely laughing, although there was a touch of hysteria in there. Alistair and Zevran started chuckling; I just shook my head.

But even Oghren spit out some laughs. "Yeah," he said as he chuckled, "we found a Paragon."

I'd thought I'd go deaf from the roar that went up. And the groaning, too; not everybody won money at the news.

The commander gave us an ear-to-ear grin. "Then get your rumps in here!" He slapped Alistair on the hip and made my shield-mate stagger. "Close the gates!"

We stepped through as they swung closed. When they thunked into place I felt a slap on my hip and turned to find Oghren offering up his flask.

"First thing when we got back, right shaper?"

I felt some hysterical laughter bubbling up my throat, so I limited my answer to snatching the flask and taking a deep drink of what I hope was straight grain alcohol. That killed the laughter real quick.

Oghren took the flask back. "To being alive!" he yelled and took a bigger swig than I had. He offered the flask back to me.

I shook my head. "That'll kill me quicker than the darkspawn." Felt like my throat had been power sanded.

Oghren shrugged good-naturedly. "Suit yourself. Hey, pretty boy…!"

Oghren's flask made its way around the group, although Sten did nothing more than pass on it on to Neria. She drank, Cullen sniffed it and coughed, and Morrigan stared at it like she'd found it under a log in her swamp. But I guess the sentiment was there; the spirit certainly was.

But the guards were getting to us. We'd spent too damn long down in the Roads with only ourselves to keep us company, and the throng of boisterous dwarves was just too much too soon. I caught Neria's eye; she looked a little freaked, so I gave her a 'let's move out' gesture.

She jerked her eyes away from me. "Let's go!" she yelled.

So we did. But we hadn't gone twenty feet before we ran into yet another problem.

"Hey! Houseless! Rack those weapons! You're still-"

I didn't see who yelled at him but I think Oghren did. "Sod off!" he snapped back and kept walking.

Somebody yelled an order and Oghren was suddenly face-to-face with a couple of guards. One of them started to speak. "You're still-"

"Sod off!" Oghren repeated and started to step around him.

The guard's hand went to his weapon but the move was painfully slow. We (all of us) went for our weapons, and our reflexes were honed and twitchy from however long we'd been gone. Weapons were out and power was channeled before any of us really knew what was happening. We'd even moved into our normal combat formation without even thinking about it.

I had three dwarves in front of me bugging their eyes out at my sword. They hadn't drawn their weapons but I'd already decided which one was going down first.

"Stand down!" the gate commander yelled as he shoved a couple of his troops around. "All of you! Anybody gets hurt and I'll have your stones!"

"Back off!" Neria snapped. That was intended for the dwarves, not us.

"Warden, I know you hired Oghren but he's-"

"Sod off!" Neria's spear was pointed at a cluster of guards; I'm guessing her eyes were also locked on target. I could see the blue glow of her staff's blade in the corner of my eye.

"Warden, Oghren's not-"

"Oghren's with us now!"

The commander looked a little nervous, but determined at the same time and tried again. "He's still under-"

"Not happening," Alistair said coldly. Very coldly; I've never heard that voice from him.

The commander shut up.

"Let's be sensible here," Alistair said in a much lighter tone. I could hear the smile on his face. "After all, you don't want to cause an incident with the Wardens right after their return, do you?"

"No!"

"Good! Didn't think so!" Alistair actually sounded cheerful. "Neria?"

She'd already safed her staff. "Let's go!" she called as cheerfully as Alistair.

The gate commander opened and closed his mouth then opened it again in protest.

"Don't test us," Neria said smoothly. "But an escort home would be nice."

* * *

><p>"Are those the Wardens?"<p>

"They're back!"

"What's that smell?"

"It's them, you stupid [dwarvish]!"

"Told you! Pay up!"

"Did you find the Paragon?"

"Ancestors, they must have!"

The crowd built up faster than it had when we'd left. The noise level went up, our speed went down, and our nerves really went on edge. Except for the Legion the only groups we were dealing with in the Roads were darkspawn; I know I was jumpy enough that I raised my shield at somebody who was bold enough to just step forward to offer us a beer. Of course, given the quality of Orzammar's home brew that might have been self-defense. Didn't help that I was buzzing lightly from the hit off Oghren's flask.

We stopped at the ramp that led to the Diamond quarter; Zevran was speaking quietly to Neria. Whatever he said got her attention but also gave the crowd more time build up. But Neria nodded and said something in return, and then she said something to our escort. We didn't head up the ramp; we made a slow and steady beeline for the Hall of Paragons.

It took us a lot longer than it should have to get there; the crowd was dense and insistent and, fortunately for everybody involved, pretty psyched about having us back. We witnessed a couple of minor but violent incidents but overall the crowd let us keep moving.

So into the Paragon Hall and up to the guard shack. The dwarves stationed there came out, saw us, bugged out their eyes, and bugged them out more at Neria's request.

The lead guard shook his head. "Warden, I don't think you wanna go out there."

"Open the fucking door!" Neria shouted. Blue fire leapt off her staff and dissipated in the warm air.

I smiled tightly at that. Things may be tense between us right now but it's good to see how far she's come along from the scared girl I'd first met.

The guard shrugged and pulled open the smaller door inset in the Gates of Orzammar. A blast of cold, wet, _fresh_ air hit us, but none of us went outside. There was a blizzard raging there. Whiteout conditions; we couldn't see the edge of the steps. We all just stared and breathed. I felt my eyes burning at the clean brightness and my lungs tightened up from the sudden novelty of the icy outside air.

Sten broke the silence with a grumble. "It is far too cold. I believe I would prefer to bathe instead."

One of the dwarven guards wrapped his arms around himself and gave us a nasty look. "Shut the rutting door!"

* * *

><p>"We're never going to get through this," Alistair yelled into my ear.<p>

I could barely hear him over the crowd. It seemed like half of Orzammar's population was in front of us. I'm pretty sure the other half was behind us.

"Keep pushing!" was my response.

Didn't help; we were barely making any headway. Even with the guards trying to help there were just too many excited dwarves wanting to get close to us, to talk us, touch us, and in one case, stab one of us.

"For Jarvia!"

At least that's what I think the dwarf yelled, but why he chose to come after me instead of a softer target is still a mystery. My nerves were already on edge. So when I saw the knives out and coming at me my video game reflexes just took over. The blades didn't get close to me; I bounced the guy off my shield and towards Leliana. Her reflexes were on point too; she punched the reeling dwarf, then stabbed him in the neck.

I'm pretty sure the dwarf didn't survive that, but it didn't matter. There was an instant of shocked silence from the immediate crowd, and somebody yelled something in dwarvish. ("He killed the Warden!" is how Oghren translated it.) The crowd turned into a mob and the failed assassin was literally yanked back into the mass of dwarves. Despite my height advantage I didn't see what happened to him, but there was a boiling knot in the crowd.

"Maker!" Alistair shouted.

"Go!" I shouted back.

"Sten!" Alistair shouted. "Push through!"

I didn't hear a response, but a cone of fire suddenly erupted above us. That shut the mob up; the pressure relented and gave us a few seconds to react.

"Go!" Alistair and I and our escort's commander yelled at the same time.

This time we had surprise working for us. And once we got moving we had momentum working. The dwarves broke through the crowd and we followed in their wake. The mob wasn't hostile, but it was confused, and that gave us the space we needed. It still wasn't easy going; I stepped on more than a few folks as we made our push to the stairwell. I tried to apologize but don't think anyone heard, and it wasn't really sincere anyway.

We staggered out of the stairwell and looked down at the crowd. It wasn't quite a riot, but it certainly wasn't peaceful, either. But the mob's attention was half on itself and half on us. I don't know what they were expecting but I suddenly had an idea flash through my head.

"Neria!"

She looked back at me without actually looking at me.

"Show'em the crown!"

There was an instant of confusion then she got a 'ding' look. She smacked away an escort's pulling hand and dug into her pack.

"Hold it up! High as you can!"

Neria shook a blanket off the crown, stood up, and held it up over her head. It was light enough for her to hold in one hand; she waved at the crowd with her free hand.

"Ancestors!" one of our escorts breathed.

The crowd needed a couple minutes to get there but eventually quieted into a confused rumble. The rumble stayed at a simmer for a couple more minutes. Neria passed the crown to Sten; he held it up even higher and the massed dwarves slowly began cheering.

"I doubt they have any idea why they are cheering," Sten said flatly. "Or what it is I am holding."

"Doesn't matter," I said. "They wanted something to prove we accomplished the mission."

"And we rutting did!" Oghren growled.

"Fucking-A," I answered.

"Maker's breath!" Alistair chimed in. "We did, didn't we?"

"By Andraste's spicy tits and flaming knickers, we did!"

Everybody turned to give Wynne a look.

She looked exhausted but smiled broadly at us. "I think I'm entitled to an exclamation every now and then."

"You tell'em, grandma!"

* * *

><p>The Warden's banner was already hanging outside the building, and a familiar dwarf was waiting to greet us.<p>

"Welcome back, lords and ladies." Selda bowed deeply and formally. "It's good to have you all back."

"Thank you, Selda." Neria bowed stiffly in response. "It's good to be back."

Selda stood up and extended her hands to Neria. She managed not to wrinkle her nose as she gave the mage a more personable greeting.

I don't know how Selda did that, but give her credit because we all stank. Badly. And we were exhausted. And starved. And we were crusted with darkspawn blood, spider guts, cave crud, and other stuff that even Oghren couldn't identify. Every item of clothing we'd taken was soaked with blood, sweat, piss, and tears, and not all of it was our own. So when we staggered back into the Wardens' Quarter to recover I thought we'd all cry from happiness. Even Sten looked relieved.

So we grounded our gear and hit the showers. Well, the baths. But there weren't enough to go around, so we drew coins to see who'd go first. I lost. So did Zevran, Leliana and Alistair (who looked like he was ready to cry from disappointment). Neria fended off Zevran's offer to wash her back and dragged poor Cullen with her ("Sten, can you help me?" "Certainly."), but only after ordering a protesting Oghren to his own bath. ("You want to keep your weapons? Then take a rutting bath!" [dwarvish grumbling]) So the four of us stacked the group's gear and sorted out the merely filthy items from the truly nasty from the just-take-it-and-burn-it. Selda had brought in a couple of other servants; they were zipping about and hovering over us the whole time, taking things away to be cleaned and/or repaired, and bringing us food and drink. Both Leliana and Alistair chose to eat, but with cleanliness only moments away Zevran couldn't stand the thought of using his hands to put anything in his mouth. And even as hungry as I was I couldn't either.

"Bath's free!" Oghren shouted after way too short a time. He padded back into the large room, wet feet slapping on the floor. He had a towel the size of a bedsheet draped immodestly over himself and his normally neatly braided beard was hanging loose. He looked like a short, deranged, ginger Santa. But in a good way. "Ah! Grub!" he said excitedly. "Oh, but no grubs," he added. "Oh, well." He shrugged and grabbed a handful of roasted shrooms and, somehow, managed to expose more of himself.

"Well," I said quickly, "y'all are eating, so I think I'll hit the bath." Alistair opened his mouth to protest, but I was quicker. "No, that's okay, you're eating, I can wait till I'm clean, and I'm sure Oghren has more war stories to tell, anyway." Yeah, definitely selfish of me, but I was suddenly dying for some alone time.

Alistair gave me an evil look (well, as evil as he could manage) and Leliana stifled a grin and a giggle as I left their sight. I heard Oghren say, "Sodding right I do!" as I headed down the hall.

"Oh, and Zevran, I can wash my own back."

I was just guessing, but he was right behind me. "Ah, my dear Warden-" I winced at that. "-you must remember that your back will be cleaner if someone else scrubs."

"Whatever."

I have to tell you, for all their faults, dwarves know how to build a bathtub. It's sunk into the floor, but big enough for me to sit in it upright and have water come up to my chest. Oghren had left a bit of a mess, but there was a servant in the room cleaning it up. She waited patiently; just watching, until I realized she was waiting for me to undress. I didn't really care; I was so tired and filthy that I shrugged, stripped down to my bike shorts, and handed her my other clothes. She stared at the spandex until I shrugged again, stripped it off, and handed it to her. "Wash that gently," I said. She nodded, looked me up and down, then down again, giggled, and left the room.

I ran warm, sulfur-smelling water into the tub and lathered up. I soaked, scrubbed, rinsed, soaked again, and scrubbed more. I dug under my nails with my knife, blew my nose until it was bloody, and scrubbed in and behind my ears until they felt raw. I used the strong soap and a coarse towel to take so much grime off my body that the whole tub was full of brown water. I drained the tub then turned on the spigots to refill. While I waited I found a straight razor tucked up on a shelf.

I shook my head and glared at myself in the mirror. A gaunt, angry, and tight lipped face stared back at me. I took in the dark hair, sunken eyes, and a lightly puckered oblong patch of white skin high on a cheekbone. I huffed at the stranger in the mirror and told him to fuck off cause I needed to shave.

I soaped up my beard, held up the razor, and told my reflection to fuck off again because I couldn't believe what I wasn't doing. I'd just come back from the Deep Roads. I'd faced a broodmother, poked the Archdemon, triggered but fought through a major case of arachnophobia, and taken down more darkspawn than I could remember, but I still wasn't brave enough to try shaving myself the old-fashioned way, at least not without a healer present, so I opened my freshly cleaned knife and started trimming my beard with the scissors.

"I can shave you if you'd like."

I'd like to say I didn't react at all, but Morrigan's voice made me jump, and I dropped my knife. It clattered into the tub as I shook my head at the woman. I didn't bother covering up, but I was pretty quick at following the knife into the water. I felt much more exposed in front of Morrigan than I had in front of the dwarven woman. "Why are you in here?"

She stepped forward gracefully. She had one of the thick, oversized dwarven towels wrapped loosely about herself, but her skin was still damp and her black hair was falling wetly down her back. "I wished to speak with you," she said in her usual blunt manner. "Privately."

Wet, beautiful, mostly naked woman? Check.

Tub with plenty of room for two? Check.

Adolescent male fantasy playing out? Check.

Time for me to lay on the charm? Check.

"Uhm..."

Morrigan chuckled as she looked down at me. "Do I frighten you?"

I looked up at her, noticing that, somehow, the towel actually covered more of her body than her everyday clothes did. "Most of the time, no. Right now, yes."

She actually laughed at that. "A fair answer." She knelt down and leaned towards me. We were still several feet apart, but it felt as if she was breathing on my lips. "But you need not be frightened of me; at least not right now." She stood back up and walked over to the towels. She picked up the razor and turned back to me. "I can shave you. I even promise not to cut you."

This is where I was supposed to throw out a charming and witty one-liner. "Sure," I said.

She walked over to the tub and sat down, letting her feet dangle in the water. "Come here," she said, then guided me to sit with my back to her with my head between her legs. "Lean back, and relax," she purred, doing nothing to put me at ease.

Morrigan gently pulled my head back. "Relax," she said again.

"Easy for you to say."

She leaned forward until her eyes were looking directly into mine. I could feel her breath on my face and smell the soap on her skin. It would have been much more exciting had she not been holding a straight razor. But then she leaned in further and kissed me gently between the eyes. "Relax," she whispered. "No harm will come to you."

When I was nineteen years old I got a haircut in a PX barbershop on Okinawa. When I thought she was done the barber pulled out a can of shaving cream and rubbed some foam onto the peach fuzz growing in front of my ears. Then she pulled out a straight razor. I'd barely grown enough whiskers to even justify owning a disposable razor, much less a deadly weapon like that one. But, somewhere deep in my mind, behind the "what the fuck is going on" bit of panic I was having, I knew that barber wasn't going to hurt me. And when Morrigan said she wouldn't, I believed in her the same way. Anything that happened would be my fault, not hers.

So my eyes closed when she kissed me, and I leaned my head back until it rested on the slightly cool stone. I felt the blade touch my cheek. I heard more than felt it scrape across my cheek, and the razor lifted away.

"'Twas but one stroke," my barber whispered. "Now breathe."

I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. I let it out slowly, then slowly inhaled. Exhaled again. Inhale. Razor to flesh. Exhale. Scrape. Inhale, exhale, scrape. It became a rhythm of relaxation in which I lost myself. I found my center and embraced it, and became aware of every whisker being nicked away, and the lightest touch of the razor and Morrigan's breath against my skin, and each gentle breath I was taking. Nothing else existed for me...

"And I am finished." Morrigan's voice broke the spell. "'Twas not so bad, was it?"

…except for a subconscious counter in the back of my head. Twenty four. I swallowed and licked my lips and tried again. "Twenty four," I whispered, my eyes still closed. "Thank you."

"Twenty four?" Morrigan's asked.

"Twenty four breaths while you were shaving me. I haven't been able to meditate so well in a very long time. Thank you again."

"You are welcome." There was a pleasant lilt in her voice that turned serious. "But I must offer you my thanks." She leaned over me so her bright eyes were only inches from mine. "Know that I owe you a great deal; more than just my life." Her eyes flashed dark with fear and disgust. "You know of what I speak, and it is not something I wish to dwell upon. But you did not hesitate to throw yourself to my rescue, and in doing so you saved me from a fate I would wish upon no one, Flemeth included."

I opened my mouth. What I wanted to say was 'No problem,' but I felt some harsher words coming up. I snapped my mouth shut again.

I don't know how she interpreted my silence, but Morrigan laughed and stood up. The towel slipped and revealed probably exactly as much as she intended to reveal. She's always been slim, but now she's a stick figure. (I think we all are.) Still, I gawked. I was pretty blatant about it; Morrigan noticed and laughed again. She rewrapped herself then knelt beside the tub. She leaned forward and kissed me, square on the lips, but in a friendly manner. "Finish your bath." And with that, she stood up, turned, and walked smoothly out of the room.

Oy. I still can't believe what happened. The whole thing was incredibly sensual, and incredibly hot, and no matter what her intentions might have been Morrigan pushed my buttons in the right way. And now I'm thinking of those boots.

Oy.

Other hand time: but when she thanked me the thing that ran through my mind was 'If I hadn't gone after her I wouldn't be a Warden." But what else was I supposed to do? Like Morrigan said: 'a fate I would wish upon no one,' and I agree with her. So I'm horny and pissed at the same time, but the pissed was taking charge at the moment.

And of course there's the gripping hand: I know exactly what Morrigan's up to. But please see the above two paragraphs. And then read this one again. Repeat as necessary.

So there I am in the tub, basically saying the same things to myself and feeling horny, pissed, and confused and seriously thinking about beating my head against the floor until it broke when I hear the door open. I thought it was the attendant again, but then I heard Leliana's voice.

"Ooh, I'm sorry! Morrigan just came from here, and told me the room was ready."

I didn't bother turning around. "She did just come from here."

"Oh, I see." Beat. "Ooooh."

I shook my head. "No, it's not like that. She came here and, uhm, please don't tell her I told you this. Promise?"

Leliana didn't hesitate with her answer. "I promise."

"She, uhm, offered herself to me, at least I think she did, but I couldn't accept. Well, I mean, it's not that I couldn't," I said as I gestured at my crotch, "but that I couldn't," I finished as I tapped my head hard enough to hurt.

"I don't think I understand."

I sighed, and turned my head Leliana and took in the view. She was wearing the tight breeches she normally wears under her leathers, and what I can only describe as the medieval equivalent of a lace-up sports bra. And her hair was down instead of tied back; it was significantly longer than it was when I met her. The muscled curves were replaced by sharp angles; she was supermodel thin, but with a healthily hungry glow under the grime. I'd describe her as hot, but she really needed a bath.

Her eyes lit up when saw my face. "Oh, you shaved! And you did not cut yourself!" Confusion suddenly replaced the pride. "But, wait, what happened with Morrigan?"

"Well, for one thing, she shaved me. And when she was done she propositioned me. I think. But..." I recounted the brief interlude and some of my thoughts. To myself I sounded numb.

But Leliana sat down on the edge of the tub and listened with a rapt expression. "So you turned her away, but-? Morrigan is a beautiful woman. You are remarkably restrained, or remarkably noble."

"Yeah, well, being restrained and noble doesn't get me laid."

Leliana smiled warmly. "Perhaps not, but I think you did the right thing. Not for turning her away, but for saving her." She suddenly shuddered and her face turned cold. "But if you had saved me from that-" She shuddered again. "I might have done the same thing. That would have been-" Another shudder. "I would have rather died. But I am here, and I am alive, and I am well, thank the Maker." She tilted her head and gave me an odd look. "Would you have turned me away? If I approached you as Morrigan had? What if it had been Neria? Or Wynne?"

Oy. "Oh, come on, you know that's not a fair question."

"I know, but I wanted to see how you would answer."

I frowned at her. "Satisfied with what you got?"

"Not really."

"Too bad," I snapped.

"Oh, do not be angry."

I sighed and closed my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, and frustrated, and, I don't know." I stood up, not caring if she saw me naked, and started to climb out of the tub. "The water's fresh-"

"No, Jeffrey, wait, please," Leliana said. "I am sorry, too. I did not mean to upset you."

I kept climbing out of the tub. "It's okay; I know you didn't." I found one of the oversize towels and wrapped it around me before plopping down on the bench. "I'm not mad at you anyway; I'm mad at myself. For turning Morrigan down." Oy again. "Twice."

Leliana looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you think she sent you in here?"

Leliana's eyes widened. "Ooh, she is a sneaky little swamp-witch, is she not?"

I actually chuckled at that. Then started laughing. It was infectious; Leliana started laughing herself. Then the attendant came in, saw us both, and backed out while giggling nervously herself. That set Leliana and me back off.

But when we finally calmed down I looked at Leliana and said, "I'm planning on walking out now, but if you ask me to stay I will."

I have no idea what her answer might have been because my stomach growled like an angry Mabari.

Leliana bit back another laugh and gave me wide, friendly smile. "Thank you for the offer, but, another time, perhaps. Perhaps you should see to your other appetite."

I nodded back. "Perhaps," I agreed. "Enjoy your bath."

"I shall."

And with that, I left. But writing all this down has got me all spun up again. Gripping hand time again. If you need anything I'll be in my bunk.

* * *

><p>I was dead tired but hadn't been able to get to get to sleep. I was feeling depressed and fatalistic and lonely and my thoughts just wouldn't hold still. And it was just too quiet and, frankly, it felt really weird being alone in my room on a bed that's way too soft. So when the knock at the door came it was actually kind of a relief. I stopped randomly poking at the journal entries and called, "Come in." I don't know who I was expecting but I certainly wouldn't have been surprised if it was Morrigan.<p>

And if it had been I wasn't going to turn her away.

"My lord," Selda said, "my lady Warden requests your presence in the library."

That did surprise me. I didn't think Neria wanted to see me yet, but if she was willing to talk things out I was too.

I forced myself up and looked for some pants. "Tell her I'll be right there."

"Yes, my lord."

I grabbed my jeans and pulled them on; they're baggier than sweatpants now, but still comfy and they remind me, in a good way, of home. I smiled as I secured them with the curtain pull I'd taken from the mages, but that faded as the looseness reminded me, again, of everything that's going on right now.

Dead end thinking that, so I grabbed the envelope full of 'predictions', stuffed that deep in a pocket, picked up my sword (because it just felt wrong not having it) and headed into the hall. Oghren padded by, his beard freshly braided, and gave me a nod ("Shaper."); we headed in opposite directions.

A moment later I walked into the library. "Neria," I started then finished with, "I was not expecting this."

Neria looked up from where she was leaning against Cullen and gave me a quick, nervous smile before diving back into her book. Wynne and Sten were engrossed in the chess board. Alistair was frowning at his journal, pen in hand; Leliana was sitting next to him busily scratching away in hers. Zevran peered at me sleepily from a nest of pillows.

"Slumber party?" I asked.

"If I understand the expression, then, yes, in a way," Sten answered without looking up.

Alistair shrugged at me. "I thought it was a bit too quiet, so I came in here. It was just as quiet until everybody else just sort of started wandering in."

Sten still didn't look up. "The absence of others weighed upon me as well."

"Coming through, shaper." Oghren bumped his way past me, found an open spot, threw down a blanket, and dropped on to it. "You've got guard duty."

"Oh," Alistair said, "I think Selda can handle that tonight."

"Yeah." I looked around the room and spotted a place to hunker down. "Let me run back-"

"My lord," Selda said from right behind me. I managed to not jump as I turned around. Selda was holding a pillow and a couple of blankets. She eased by me and dropped them in the spot I'd been eyeing. "Will this do?" She reached questioningly for my sword.

I hesitated with that, but gave up the blade; Selda leaned it against the wall next to the rest of our armory.

I smiled weakly. "That'll do fine. But I still need to grab something." I hurried back my room, grabbed the journal, and trotted back to the library.

Morrigan had come in while I was gone. She was curled up in one of the large chairs and looked like a comfortable cat. And she gave me the type of look a cat might give someone, imperious and cool, then looked away without giving anything else up.

I quickly made myself at home on the thick carpet; it's a lot nicer than a blanket and a rock. I didn't really talk; there just wasn't anything to say, and nobody else really wanted to talk either. We all just wanted to have others around for the company.

So I sat down and got comfy and wrote a little bit. Well, a lot. But it was quiet (at least until Oghren, and eventually Neria, started snoring), and companionable, and a chance to relax with a warm meal in our bellies and without having to worry about darkspawn. That, along with the scratching of Leliana's pen, and the _tap_ of the chess pieces, and just the sound of everybody's breathing, was what I needed to finally start drowsing off.

Time for go to bed.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm only about 98% satisfied with this chapter, but at a certain point you've got to just thank _**Beta Reader **_for the help __and go ahead and publish what you've got. But it looks like I'm back in the groove and should be able to start updating regularly again. I'm going to aim for about every 10 days or so, but let's see real life has to say._

_I do have a question for the DA nerds out there: is the Orlesian Warden Commander (the one in place during the DA:O events) ever given a name? I've been digging and haven't had any luck finding it._

**AD Lewis, Mayhem296:** _ no comments regarding future events. As to the possibility I was trolling: there was no way I couldn't finish this story off properly no matter what Jeff's fate ended up being._

**Azrael Duke:** _yep, out of the Deep Roads. And I don't want to say too much regarding Jeff's dreaming or his relationship with Neria as of right now. But I will say the next stop is Redcliffe!_

**wpago:** _no fubaring; I promise. I_ will _bring this to a solid conclusion._

**PoptartProdigy:** _I was actually going for a bit of ambiguousness at the beginning of the chapter; just a quick 'huh?' to make the reader wonder exactly what was happening or if they'd missed something at the end of the previous chapter. And I appreciate the kind words and solid feedback._

**Mercsenary:** _Jeff definitely didn't ask for this but I'm wondering if he didn't, deep down somewhere, actually expect it._

**Robofin117: ** _that's a very good question regarding others ending up in the DA:O verse along with Jeff. Honestly I'm not sure that I want to try something like that for incorporation into the main story. However, as a one-shot, a 'what-if', or maybe an April Fool's chapter I'd certainly be open to it. If anybody's interested in that sort of collaboration please let me know._

**GlysMari:** _I love Oghren and wanted to see more of him, although I was a bit disappointed with how he was handled in Awakenings. Glad you approve of how I'm treating him. 'Pain is temporary, glory is forever, and chicks dig scars' is one of those phrases that military guys throw around to justify doing stupid stuff that causes scarring. Jeff's sense of humor is still there but it's a bit on the dark side right now._

**SnowHelm, Riptide Monzarc:** _I'm happy you all liked the chapter, and I really appreciate the honest feedback._

**Master Procrastinator:**_ thank you. I've been trying to write a quality story (although I'll freely admit the first chapters could use some work), and I've been careful to keep Jeff out of Gary Stu territory._


	80. Team Building

I'm not sure I was in the Fade as usual or just dreaming very vividly, but Amy was in front of me and doing her best to keep her distance.

"Come on! I just wanna talk!"

Amy was running lightly; her feet were just skimming the ground. I was doing the same thing; taking long, loping strides that started before the previous ones properly ended. I wasn't gaining ground, but I wasn't losing it either.

"I need some answers!"

Amy slowed for a moment and looked back, fear in her eyes. "You'll not have them now!"

She pulled a roadrunner on me. The damn demon leaned forward and just accelerated away from me. I pulled a coyote and stopped short, not panting, but wondering just how the hell she pulled that off.

And then I had the rifle in hand and was leaping out of the shadow that erupted around me. I brought the rifle around but was way too slow; the Archdemon had pounced and caught me like a rat. Its foreleg swatted me and sent me flying. I landed painfully and limply and wondered how broken bones could be healed in the Fade. But amidst the pain and the fear I'd held on to the rifle and tried to bring it up.

A scaled foot pinned my gun arm and ground the bones into splinters. I don't remember screaming but it would have been appropriate. And then the Archdemon's reptilian eyes bore into mine. It didn't say anything but I understood the intent.

Payback time.

Purple fire rolled over me and I tried to scream but my lungs were burning from the flames and flesh was crisping off the roasting meat that was my body and my eyes burst and I sat up and breathed warm, inviting library air. I jerked my hand up, fully expecting to see burns, but was rewarded with the sight of whole, pale skin that was tingling with the memory of pain.

Damn. This is gonna suck.

* * *

><p>"By surface reckoning I believe it's the fifteenth day of the Harvest month, my lord."<p>

"Thank you, Selda."

So:

**15 Harvestmere (morning, I'm assuming, but it doesn't really matter in Orzammar. And you know what? Screw the day count.)**

42 days in the Deep Roads if the date's correct. Life, the Multiverse, and Everything is officially fucking with me. Either that or I really pissed off Doug during some other incarnation.

Anyway…

I sat up noisily enough to wake up Zevran. He stared at me with barely opened eyes and a knife cocked and ready to throw.

"Just me. Bad dream."

I staggered to my feet as quietly as I could, but as Zevran relaxed Sten rolled over and gripped his sword, then released it before I could say anything else. I grabbed my blade and crept out of the library without waking anybody else up, visited the latrine, washed up a bit (I think I oozed out more grime overnight), and found my way to the kitchen. I really wasn't expecting what I found there.

"Selda, don't you ever sleep?"

"Not when there's Wardens in the compound, my lord. Tea and porridge for you?"

"That…would be lovely. But toast and jam, too, if you've got it. And…thank you. For everything."

"You're quite welcome. Now if you'll-"

I dug into my pocket for the envelope I'd prepared just in case. I'd come damn close to needing it, but wasn't ready to use it. I nodded at the stove. "Can you open the fire box?"

Selda gave me a confused look. "Yes, my lord, but…?" She shrugged and fiddled with the stove.

I looked in the door she'd opened and saw what looked like glowstones, but they were cherry red and oozing heat. I glanced back at Selda.

"Firestones," she said simply.

"Makes sense." I held up the envelope. "Will this hurt them?"

"No, my lord, but-"

I tossed the envelope onto the stones and watched as it smoked, browned, and eventually burst into flames. For some reason that I still can't figure out I felt myself tearing up at the sight. I sighed, rubbed my eyes, and turned away from the stove. "I'll be in the dining room. Thanks again."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

><p><em>Gray Warden Alistair, Gray Warden Neria – <em>

_Having heard of the tragedy that befell the Ferelden Gray Wardens at the Battle of Ostagar I was gladdened to receive your dispatch._

_However, although I am sorry for the circumstances that led to the loss of the remainder of the Ferelden Greys, but, after discussing the matter among the Order at large, I must conclude there is no evidence that a Blight is underway. Granted, the darkspawn army you encountered at Ostagar was a much larger incursion than is usually seen, but aside from this it is felt the danger to Ferelden, and Thedas as a whole, is much less than your communique makes it to be._

_Know that after hearing of Ostagar I sent Senior Warden Riordan to assay the situation in Ferelden. He and his companions may be found at the Gray Warden compound in Denerim. Make your best time and report to Riordan immediately, but should circumstances preclude doing so you may instead report the Grey Warden outpost in Jader or to my headquarters in Montsimmard._

_It is my hope this letter finds you well, and I anticipate meeting my Ferelden brethren before the dawn of spring._

_Reynaud Forestier, Commander of the Grey, Orlais_

Alistair stopped reading and dropped the letter on the desk with a disgusted look. He, Neria, and I were in the small, but comfortable, office used for Warden business. Not much to say about about it; it looks like every office you'd find pretty much anywhere in any verse.

Alistair shook his head. "They don't believe us. Bastards. Uhm, _rutting_ bastards."

I was ready to break things. "Son of a bitch."

"Motherfuckers," Neria mumbled.

Alistair suddenly looked ready to break things, too. "Should we even bother writing them back?"

I was (and still am) running through options in my head. "Oh, I could think of a few things to say."

"We should start by telling them to bend over." Neria's words were still mumbled, but I could hear the heat behind them.

"And then maybe we should-" Alistair cut himself off and turned bright red. "So what do we do?" He looked pointedly at Neria.

"Uh…." Neria started turning red but turned to look at me.

"Where's that letter?"

Alistair passed it over; I reread it. The mood I'm in has got me distracted, but the same mood makes me stubborn. I found the loophole I was looking for almost immediately. "There." I dropped the paper on the desk and tapped it. "We're supposed to get to Denerim. Fine. We'll leave as soon as we can."

"But what about the elves?"

"And weren't we going to Redcliffe?"

I felt a grim satisfaction at being able to play barracks lawyer. "The letter says make our 'best time.' I think the southern road meets that requirement. And it just happens to run through Redcliffe and the Brecilian Forest."

Neria understood and just nodded.

Alistair looked a lot less certain. "Are you saying we should disobey the Warden Commander's orders?"

I had the phrases 'vague guidance from higher headquarters,' 'creative interpretation', and 'local commander's initiative' all ready to go.

Neria spoke before I could. "They can sod off for all I care. We are not going to back to Denerim or Orlais just be told the Blight's not happening." The defiant tone went out of her voice. "As much as I'd like to."

Alistair went wide-eyed. "But-"

"Do you know what will happen if we leave Ferelden?" Neria gave us both a challenging look. "Do you?"

Alistair shook his head.

"I do," I said.

Neria locked on to me. "What will happen?"

"They'll probably do something stupid like put us into protective custody until the Ferelden succession is over. Then they'll offer us up as fall guys to whoever ends up in charge as a way of saying, 'Sorry, but these junior Wardens were just stupid and acting _completely _on their own and _without_ authorization; anything we can do to them to make it up to you?'" I leaned over the desk and found a map of Ferelden. I pointed to Ostagar and made sweeping motions with my fingers as the others watched. "And then come spring the darkspawn horde'll surface. They'll drive north and cut the country in half, then push east to take Denerim. Once that's done they'll swing through the forest and hit Gwaren." I shrugged. "That's what I'd do. Secure my flanks, regroup, and build a defensive perimeter before going on the offensive again."

Alistair looked grim. "And if that happens it'll take years to end the Blight. And there wouldn't be enough left of Ferelden to fill a teacup." He looked grimmer. "But the Warden Commander's orders. If we disobey them…."

I'd reordered my phrases into something coherent but still didn't get a chance to use them.

"No," Alistair said firmly. "If we can stop the Blight then I'm with you. If we can't, at least we'll give the darkspawn a bloody nose and the Wardens'll know for sure what's happened." He looked and sounded absolutely sure of himself. "No matter what I'm with you. Both of you."

Neria tilted her head. "So if we tell him to bend over…?"

Alistair nodded. "I won't like it, but I'm with you. We're Grey Wardens. Stopping a Blight is the reason for our existence. And I don't want to sit in protective custody in Orlais while Ferelden's being ravaged."

"Are you sure?"

"We do what we have to do to stop the Blight."

Neria nodded. "Jeffrey?" She couldn't quite meet my eyes.

"Yeah. I'm with you. Both of you."

"Good." She hopped up and scurried out of the office.

Alistair gave me a confused look. "What is going on with you two?"

I shook my head as I studied the map. "It's complicated."

Alistair huffed. "Are you still upset about being Joined?"

"Well, yeah! But-"

"But isn't it better than being dead? Or being a darkspawn?"

Or being a darkspawn general? "Yeah, it is, but I-"

"'Have to get used to the idea.' Yeah, you've already said that." Alistair wasn't quite scowling. "Do you really want to be a Warden?"

I could feel myself scowling. "Honestly? No. But not much I can do about that now is there?"

Alistair's expression didn't change. "But are you with us?"

"Till the bitter end." I held out my pinky.

Alistair tried staring me down but gave up. "Fine." He locked pinkies with me. "But does it have to be bitter? I'd prefer sweet. With flowers and puppies."

"Don't forget sunshine and roses." Sigh and a stomach rumble. "Come on, I'll buy you breakfast."

"We've already have breakfast."

"Then I'll buy you second breakfast."

"You're just making that up…."

* * *

><p>Steward Bandalore [sp?] and Captain Thrand weren't breathing. I think they were afraid their breath would condense on the crown and tarnish the metal. That wasn't a worry on our part; we protected it best we could, but there's a few scratches and dings on it from the trip.<p>

"…and that's what happened," Neria finished. She leaned over the dining table and started to rewrap the crown.

She'd (with the rest of us throwing in details as needed) told the dwarves most of the story from the time we linked up with the Legion to when we'd handed Branka off to them. Including the broodmother, and Branka's role in that.

Their reactions were interesting. Concern, then worry over the Archdemon and its horde. A sensible nod over the Legion. Interest and more worry about Bownammar. Disgust and loathing for the Broodmother. Disappoint over leaving the golem behind. Unreadable expressions about Branka; awe and doubt about Caridin.

We didn't tell them I was a Warden; we'd decided to keep that to ourselves. And I'd called a quick huddle before telling them about Caridin's and the Anvil's fate, but we decided to tell the dwarves about that, too. I'd thought they'd be majorly pissed, and maybe they were, but they both just looked resigned and reverent and said something about 'the will of the Paragon.'

Of course, that's assuming they believed us.

"A moment, Warden, if you please." Bandalore leaned in closer and used the cloth to rotate the crown. "You'll pardon me if I have doubts regarding your story, but I wanted to see the crafter's mark." He studied the crown for a moment longer, clearly not breathing on it. "I'm certain this is Caridin's mark, but to find him…?"

Neria shrugged. "We've told you the story, and you can see the crown."

Bandalore still looked pretty skeptical. I don't blame him. "Perhaps if we were to take it-"

We answered as a group. "No!"

"-to the Shaperate…."

"The Shapers are welcome to come here," Neria answered firmly, "or we can take it to them, but the crown stays with us. We went through too much-" She stopped and looked pissed.

"Perhaps this would help, Steward." Leliana placed one of her (aluminum, I'm pretty sure) arrows on the table and slid it across to the Steward. "You will find Caridin's mark upon the head, and you will see it is new, and that it matches the mark upon the crown." She gave the dwarf a broad smile. "You may take that to the Shapers if you desire."

Bandalore inclined his head as he picked up the arrow. He examined it closely then passed it to Thrand.

"The marks match," the Captain said quietly.

"We have other samples of the Paragon's work," Sten said from where he was standing. "The Warden's spear, my sword, and other equipment bear his mark. Your Shapers will be able to see this for themselves should they desire."

"They'll probably want to do that, ser giant. Wrap that up, Captain."

"Yes, Steward."

Bandalore stood rapidly, so rapidly that we scrambled to stand in kind. "Wardens, cohort." He bowed formally to us and turned to leave.

Thrand spoke while he secured the arrow. "You were probably expecting this, but you're confined to the Warden Quarter for now. For your safety, of course, but for Orzammar's, too. We're still cleaning up from yesterday's riot."

Alistair rubbed his temple. "I distinctly recall seeing a celebration. Lots of beer and cheering; not too much blood."

Thrand glared at him. "Riot, celebration; still too much work for the guards." He started to bow.

"What about the guy who tried to stab me?"

Thrand glared at me. "Probably a chaffed thug of Jarvia's. Nobody's asked about him, but there wasn't much left to ask about. And, just so you know, we're _still_ cleaning up from that little Carta expedition of yours."

I shrugged. "Blame Bhelen."

The glare intensified. "That's _Prince _Bhelen, topsider."

I just shrugged again.

Thrand dropped the glare and snorted. "Speaking as me, the Carta had it coming. But speaking as the Captain of the Orzammar Guard you kicked open a deepstalker nest. Sorry, but your reward for that is being locked in here. For your own safety, of course." He started to bow again.

Of course. "What if we wanna leave? Orzammar, that is?"

Bandalore spoke up from the doorway. "The Wardens would have to agree to leave the crown with us so we can confirm its authenticity. And the Paragon's will was that the crown's wearer should be decided by the Wardens. We would much prefer you remain in Orzammar." There was no threat, implied or otherwise, in his voice, just a simple statement of fact. "And, of course, if they were to leave, the Wardens would have to return to petition the king to honor your treaty."

I frowned but nodded to Bandalore. "Of course."

Bandalore nodded back. "Ser." He looked back at Neria and Alistair. "Wardens, cohort."

Thrand bowed as well, we bowed in return, and the dwarves left.

We looked around at each other. Frustration was the main emotion I could see.

Except for Oghren. "I can live with being locked in for a while. Plenty to drink and the food's good and the beds are soft."

Morrigan's expression suddenly changed. "For once I agree with the dwarf. A short rest before moving on would be welcome."

Oghren grinned.

Morrigan cut him off. "And that is all upon which I agree with you."

* * *

><p>"My lord, the houseless one requests your presence in the dining room."<p>

I rubbed my eyes. "Selda, can't you be nicer to Oghren?"

"No, my lord."

I was expecting a longer answer. "Should I ask why? Or do I even wanna know?"

"No, my lord."

Sigh. "I'll be right there."

Ninety seconds later I walked into the dining room. Oghren was at his usual seat; Alistair, Neria, and Leliana were sitting near him and watching him with various levels of intent. Cullen's snout was resting on the edge of the table; his nose was twitching uncomfortably. Wynne and Sten were at the far end of the table ignoring the chess set (I'd wondered where the travel set had gone) and watching the proceedings with matching levels of disapproval.

I considered what I was looking at but didn't get a chance to say anything.

"Dwarf!" Morrigan snapped from behind me. (I flinched but didn't jump.) "What is so important that- No."

"Oh, come on," I said, "just one drink."

Don't know where Oghren got it all, but there were bottles and jugs of various sizes, shapes, and colors sitting on the table. His flask was conspicuously absent, but I didn't think we'd miss it.

"No," Morrigan repeated.

"Ah, mia bella obscura, you should be willing to celebrate our return." I could hear the grin in Zevran's voice.

"I have seen these sorts of 'celebrations' before, and wish to take no part in this one."

Alistair was examining a bottle. "Ooh, this just got really cold. And brandy is better warm, you know."

Oghren was wrestling with a bottle of his own. "All of you! Sod off, shut up, and sit down!" He popped the top and started pouring some carefully measured shots into little stone cups. "You all gotta try this!"

I stepped around Morrigan and looked at the dark liquid. "What is that?"

"Brandy! Well, dwarven brandy."

"Brandy?" Neria reached out, snagged a shot, and gave me a dark look. "Luh-kime." She slammed it down and went into a full body shudder. "Maker!" she gagged.

Oghren snickered. "Not quite like the topsider stuff, huh, missy?"

Neria just kept shuddering. I looked around futilely for a lemon wedge.

Leliana shook her head. "I drank a thimbleful of dwarven brandy once. I woke up a week later wearing only my shoes and a towel."

Oghren carefully and deliberately slid a shot over to her.

Leliana glared at him but didn't push the booze away.

Oghren snickered again and handed me a couple of glasses. "Pass these around, shaper."

One shot each to Wynne (she gave me a wary, "Thank you.") and Sten ("No," but after a lot of cajoling from everybody, relented with, "Just the one."). Morrigan let Neria talk her into a single drink ("Sten's drinking, so you have to!"). Cullen wouldn't even sniff the stuff so he got a bowl full of beer; Zevran and I held up our glasses with the others.

"All right then." Oghren stood and drew himself up into some semblance of attention. When he spoke again his voice dripped with somber ceremony and sober ritual. "This may not mean much to you, but by the stone under my feet and the honor of my Ancestors I pledge myself to you. May we always stand on solid stone and follow the lit paths."

Alistair looked impressed. He waved his hands in a 'stand up!' motion at Neria.

Neria stood. "I take it that's a formal oath?"

Oghren remained at attention and actually looked dignified. "It is."

Neria gave the dwarf a broad smile. "Oghren, that's not necessary; we've been through too much together."

"You might be right about that, missy, but sometimes you gotta do things the way the Ancestors want you to."

"All right then." Neria spit in her palm and held it out. "Welcome to the family."

Oghren spit noisily into his palm and slapped it into Neria's. Not as much spray this time.

Alistair extended his cup in a toast. "To Oghren. Thanks for all for you did."

The dwarf raised his cup to everybody. "And here's to all you sods. We punched the blighters in the teeth and got away with it. Here's to doing it again."

Wynne raised her glass and called out, "To doing the impossible."

"That's right, grandma!"

"To the grand experience that were the Deep Roads." Zevran's smile was fleeting.

I was examining my own shot by then. Smelled like gasoline. "No sarcasm!" I snapped, and added, "To being back in Orzammar."

"To being alive in Orzammar, mio amico."

I raised my glass higher. "Hear, hear."

"To the berasaad we have become."

Beat.

Sten actually looked a little offended. "We have come together as a war band, have we not?"

[mumbled agreement]

"'Nuff talkin'! Everybody drink!" Oghren threw down a shot; everyone else followed suit.

It tasted like gasoline; don't ask me how I know.

Morrigan coughed delicately. "That was…foul."

Alistair's eyes were crossed. "I think that's the second time I've completely agreed with you about something."

"All right, you sods! Next round! This one's for the Ancestors! Except maybe for you, missy; you're one up on us already."

Neria was shuddering but pointed at her glass. "Just…put…more of the stuff…in the…ughagh!"

* * *

><p>It's brewed from fungus so I think there's a hallucinogenic component to the brandy. And it's fast; I've only had three shots, but I'm feeling it, and the others are too. I mean, I feel fine, but, for example: Alistair's deep in conversation with Oghren, except the dwarf's nowhere near him. Leliana is flitting about the room; I think she thinks she's a butterfly, except she keeps stopping to tell people about dolphins. Or is that Neria? The other girl is dancing to music only she can hear. No clothes off. Yet. I think. I can't tell the girls apart. Or maybe it's Zevran. Yeah, it's Zevran; but why hasn't Neria blown him up yet? And every time I think I've spotted Leliana it turns out to be Oghren. Who's not talking to Alistair.<p>

I turned to Thing. "So whaddaya think? Hallucinogenic?"

[(yk 63qyk e3r8h5o6l] He raised his own shot and slurped it down. [Y8t j3 qtq8hZ]

And now the alcohol's coming out. Cover me; I'm going in.

* * *

><p><strong>16 Harvestmere (morning)<strong>

I woke up horizontal (which is usually a good thing), unclothed (which is usually not, at least when Zevran's around, and especially when you don't know how or why you ended up naked), having to pee real bad (expected), only barely hungover (totally unexpected), hungry as hell (even more unexpected), and next to Wynne (clothed; and a far better result than Zevran [clothed or unclothed]).

"Oy."

* * *

><p>I managed to get out of bed and found my clothes without Wynne waking up, although when I opened the door she suddenly clenched her staff tightly. I dressed in the hall then found my way to the kitchen. I really wasn't expecting what I found there.<p>

"My lord?"

I needed a second try to get my voice working. "I said I'd like an omelette. With cheese and onions. And bacon. Crispy. And home fries. Toast. With jam. And since you've got all that ice I'd like some _iced_ tea. _Sweet_ iced tea."

Selda glared at me when I mentioned the ice. I don't blame her; there's a few hundred pounds worth in the kitchen right now. Gotta find out how that happened. Make that why that happened. Anyway….

Selda kept glaring.

"I'll, uh, be happy to cook it myself."

"You'll get porridge and like it. Now get out."

"Can I at least get the iced tea?"

* * *

><p>I squinted at Alistair. "You don't look like shit."<p>

He didn't, and gave me a grin. "Well piss off, because you don't either. And why's it so cold in here?"

"Ask Selda."

"I will. And how did that happen?" Alistair pointed to the ceiling.

"My best guess is Oghren."

"Well seeing how it's his axe…."

"But how did he-?"

"Porridge, lord Warden?"

"Thank you, please, Selda. And why's it so cold in here?"

"My lord wanted iced tea."

Selda slammed a mug down in front of me. 90% ice, 5% sugar (well, honey), 5% percent tea. Just like mom used to make.

* * *

><p>Lord Shaper Czibor has a professorial air about him. Knowledgeable, sharp, and detail-oriented, and he spoke quietly with air that asked for rather than demanded respectful attention. At least that's the impression I got from him while he visited. No sense in detailing what we talked about; it was pretty much the same stuff Bandalore and Thrand had gone over, although Czibor didn't react much beyond displaying curiosity. He wasn't even chaffed when Oghren gave him the Deep Roads maps we'd used; if anything Czibor was happy with the updates we'd made. He asked some questions, listened to us while his scribe scribbled the answers, followed up with more questions, confirmed the spelling of his name, nodded and <em>hmm<em>ed at our answers, drew a pretty good picture of the crown, and reverently took the list of names we'd copied in Caridin's vault.

So after the long Q&A session when he stood to leave we stood in unison and bowed to him. Some of us more smoothly than others, but I'll come back to that.

"Wardens, cohort," Czibor answered quietly. "Welcome back to Orzammar."

[assorted murmured thanks]

"Now that my visit is over I do have a question of a more personal nature. How did that happen?"

He pointed to where Oghren's axe was imbedded in the ceiling. We hadn't had a chance to work it loose.

Selda stepped up with a sour look on her face. "I'll be happy to answer that, my lord. This way if you please…."

The two headed for the door. The scribe gathered his materials, bowed clumsily, and followed.

Czibor's calm voice carried back into the dining room. "I see. And why is so cold?" Beat. "I don't understand; what's a metric fuck ton?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Oy. As soon as I set a goal of updating every ten days I end up missing it due to some IRL commitments, including an upcoming day trip to Albuquerque. (Long story, but not as long as this one.) Given the standard length of my updates I'm going to set an intermediate goal of 300-500 words per day; that should keep me updating on the planned schedule._

_I'd like to thank_ **Charlie019, GlibMin, Lennartz-L02**, _and_ **Gillian Grayson**_ for the research regarding the Warden-Commander names. Thank you all!_

**Guest:** _glad you're enjoying the story and the occasional joke I've dropped in._

**Riptide Monzarc, PoptartProdigy:** _the Deep Roads aren't something to leave anyone untouched. Imagine be constantly on alert, frequently fighting in a poorly lit environment while on short rations and little sleep. Throw in the unveilings of things best left unveiled and you've got a perfect recipe for PTSD. _[MINOR SPOILER]_ Unfortunately, the group's not going to get much down time._

**Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, shom, Macman6453:** _ just a simple 'thanks' for the kind words._

**InsidiousAgent:** _thanks to you, too. I'd done a little bit of reading on the Celtic Morrigan, but I don't think I gained any insight on DA's Morrigan, but I certainly agree with you about her being cat-like._

**Azrael Duke, Oplindenfep, Shinkansen:** _balls of steel; brains of mush. But Jeff's in kind of a bad place right now, and he's knows what Morrigan's up to, and he and Leliana have an 'understanding' regarding their relationship._

**Robofin117:** _I've given some consideration the idea of something else popping into the DA verse but just can't see a way to make it work._

**SnowHelm, GlysMari:** _thank you! I was hoping to convey Jeff's (and the group's) reactions realistically. The 'fresh air' scene was something that's been sitting on the hard drive for literally over a year and I was able to use it with almost no editing. Some of the other stuff just needed fleshing out but felt 'right' as I was getting it down._

**Ericboy:** _I'm pretty sure we all know what Morrigan's up to. The question is whether or not Jeff's willing to go along._

**Gamerof1458:** [MINOR SPOILER] _I don't really consider being wrapped in a towel nudity, so as of this time I will officially say Morrigan has NOT had a nude scene yet._

**Venger: **_Jeff may be only 5'8" but he carried the 200 pounds fairly well, although he did have a bit of a belly. He's broad through the shoulders and has a lot of muscle (think of a short linebacker), but the modern sedentary lifestyle and long-term injuries had him show up in Thedas with about extra 20 pounds that he pretty quickly burned off. And the Deep Roads took even more weight off, but I'm not going to guess at his weight right now._


	81. Didn't See That Coming

Czibor's arrival had resulted in all of us being summoned to the dining room in various states of consciousness. Alistair and I were feeling pretty good, and even Neria seemed like she'd recovered from last night's libations. Leliana and Zevran were/are pretty hungover; Oghren looks like he always does, but seems a bit crankier than normal. Morrigan just smirked at us; so did Cullen. Wynne and Sten must have practiced coordinating their Stares because we got an eyeful from both of them as they walked in.

So when Czibor most of the others scattered like shrapnel. There were exceptions.

Oghren was up on the table but couldn't reach his axe. He'd already enlisted my assistance but needed some more. "Hey, pretty boy, come here!"

Alistair groaned from the doorway. "Why me?"

"Cause you're tall! And slow! And shaper can't lift me on his own."

"But-"

"Now!" Oghren growled.

Sten was seated and speaking quietly to Selda. She nodded and headed for the kitchen as Alistair groaned again and dragged himself up on to the table. Sten watched with detached interest; my observations were more from morbid curiosity.

"How did this happen anyway?" Alistair asked as we levered Oghren up.

"Bet it was a bet."

Sten spoke quietly. "It was indeed a wager. The elf was successful and, as always, appears to have improved his fortunes."

"See! Told you I didn't do it!"

I turned to Sten. "So why is there a metric fuck ton of ice in the kitchen?"

"Come on, you sods; higher!"

Sten's expression didn't change but I could hear the shit-eating grin. "You wanted iced tea."

"Okay, but why?"

"You and the Warden – the other Warden – were overheated from your exertions."

Alistair let out a grunt. "Exertions?"

"Exertions! Heh!"

"They were sparring. Angrily. There was no mating involved." Sten tilted his head and thought about something but didn't elaborate before looking back at me. "I mediated the combat until you became overheated and demanded iced tea." Another tilt of the head. "I can understand why; it is a refreshing beverage."

Alistair grunted again. "So Jeff and Neria were arguing?"

Oghren let out his own grunt. "Yeah, I remember that. Two of you were in each-"

There was a crack as the axe head pulled loose. Stone chips went flying and the three of us hit the table hard. It's a good table; it didn't even shake. Oghren's pretty solid, too; he just kept talking.

"-other's face just yelling. Couldn't make a sodding bit of sense out of it." Oghren snorted. "You're lucky she didn't roast your stones." He jabbed Alistair. "You all right, pretty boy?"

Alistair rolled off the table. "I'm fine, and yes, everything was blurry last night, but I don't remember that."

"That's probably cause you and Red were off canoodling in the corner."

All thoughts of ice, tea, and Neria dropped out of my head. I gave a huge grin as I hopped off the table. "Dude, really?"

Alistair's face went hot enough to melt all the ice in the kitchen. "I was not…canoodling. With anyone."

Oghren hit the floor with a thump. "Sure you were. Saw you myself right before Missy got sent to the kitchen. She said something about shaper going home packed in ice. Guess she made enough."

Alistair looked around wildly. "Sten, please tell them I was not…canoodling with Leliana."

Oghren shrugged at Alistair. "Anyway, canoodling's what I think you called it, but everything was a little blurrier than usual."

Sten nodded. "You and the bard appeared to be engaging in a pre-mating exchange of affections."

Alistair's face went supernova. "No. That did not happen."

Sten kept going. "It did happen. You should not be embarrassed; the bard would make an excellent mate. Although I am confused regarding basra mating choices-"

"Sten, no!"

Selda walked out of the kitchen with a loaded plate. Omelet, bacon, toast, etc. She gave me a challenging look as she placed it in front of Sten, then targeted Alistair. "You and my lady were…greatly enjoying each other's company, my lord."

Sten inclined his head to Selda. "Thank you, housekeeper." He retargeted Alistair. "I do not, however, completely understand the bard's interest in you. You stated that Grey Wardens are rarely capable of producing offspring, yet she-"

Alistair fled. Oghren grumbled about a nick in his axe. Selda bowed to Sten and returned to the kitchen; Sten attacked his breakfast with delicate gusto. I went looking for some leftover bacon, but only got more porridge.

* * *

><p>Wynne set down her iced tea with a thoughtful expression. "I must say this is very refreshing. I wonder why we never thought of this at the Tower."<p>

"Probably for the same reason you never thought of ice cream: the damn Templars."

"They do tend to frown on the casual use of magic, but I think they'd approve of this. During the summer. Some of them, at least."

"Yeah, well-"

"What happened during the Joining? You were drifting in and out, and talking to us as if – well, it's hard to explain."

"I told you I was having a Fade dream. Or something like it."

"I think there was more to it." Wynne studied me carefully. "The desire demon."

"The desire demon," I said at the same time. "Somehow she got me home."

Wynne smiled indulgently. "You were not home. I can-"

"I thought I was home, and that's what counts. And then Neria yanked me away from that, and now I may never get back."

Wynne held the smile but shook her head. "We talked about all this last night before you slept. You're angry at Neria for rescuing you from both an illusion and a horrible fate-"

"And I shouldn't be. Yeah, I know, and haven't we been over all this before?"

"Yes, but you haven't talked to Neria about it yet, have you?"

"She doesn't want to talk."

"Because of whatever happened that you're not telling me." Wynne suddenly grinned. Lustfully. "We were talking about this last night, and you suddenly stopped talking and said you were 'too damn hot.'"

"Is that when…?"

The grin widened. "You stripped off all your clothes, downed a pitcher of tea, and threw yourself on the bed. You started arguing with yourself, but otherwise seemed fine so I let you be. When I came to back check on you-" Wynne suddenly laughed. "-you grabbed me, said, 'mmm, boobies,' and pulled me down on the bed."

Facepalm. "Oy. And?"

"And then you used my bosom for a pillow and went back to sleep. I'll have you know you're heavier than you look. But, better you than Zevran, I suppose."

* * *

><p>I stared grouchily at Neria. "I think this is a bad idea."<p>

Neria stared grouchily back at me. "I do, too."

Wynne shook her head at us both. "If neither of you will tell anyone else why you're so angry with each other then you'll need to talk it out on your own." She started to close the door to the library but stopped. "I'll have Selda send in dinner if necessary." She closed the door firmly but opened it instantly. Wynne strode up to Neria, said something I couldn't hear, took Neria's staff, and left again. And didn't come back.

So we stared grouchily and silently at each other for a while. I'd left my sword in my room and was feeling its absence; Neria was probably feeling the same way about her staff if her twitching hands were any indication.

"Chess?" she finally asked. Grouchily.

"Sure," I answered. Grouchily.

So we sat and played in silence until I won the game. We were setting up for a new one when Neria suddenly blurted out, "I'm sorry I saved your life."

I had a zen moment and said the first thing that came to mind. "So am I."

Neria actually flinched at that. She didn't answer but instead played a move. A bad one. Followed by another bad one. I won the game in eight moves.

"Motherfucker." Neria pulled her feet up into the chair and rested her chin on her knees. Her face is lean and she's supermodel thin and her clothes are hanging on her. Basically she looks like the rest of us. In a bad way. Her blue eyes are sunken and dark and haunted, but at least they're not flicking about like mine.

I think Alistair's the only one of us still relatively unscathed by all this.

I set up the board again and rotated it around.

"I had to make you a Grey Warden, you know. I wish I didn't have to, but there was nothing else I could do."

"Don't waste wishes," I muttered.

"What?"

"Never say, 'I wish.' You don't know who might be listening and you'll end up wasting it."

Neria thought about that for a second. "I wish I didn't have to make you a Warden."

"Fair enough."

"But I didn't have a choice. It was either that or leave you to die or let you…become…something else."

"Maybe you should have left me. I might be home now."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because I was home. Or close to it."

"You weren't home. You were here." She stared at me with wide eyes.

"I wanted to be home."

"And the demon fooled you."

"I'm not so sure."

The eyes bore into me. "You were here. You were dying from the Taint. I don't know what you were…." She trailed off and even in the soft lighting I could see a flush across her face.

I felt myself flushing. "Yeah, well, um, let's not-"

"Yeah," Neria interrupted, "let's not mention that to anyone."

"I haven't."

"I haven't either." Neria reached out to the chess board but picked up a bishop and looked closely at it without saying anything else.

I thought about what she'd said for a bit and nothing really seemed to make sense. But instead of doing the sensible thing and just asking what the problem was I watched her fiddle with the chess piece for a while.

"Another game?" I finally asked.

"No."

"Okay."

We sat in silence for a while again, and eventually Neria replaced the bishop and moved a pawn. I moved a piece but Neria just stared at the board.

"You can hate me if you want to," she said.

I worked my mouth for a few seconds. "I don't hate you," I eventually answered. "Why would I?"

"For making you a Grey Warden. I just…didn't want you to die."

"I'm mad at you. I shouldn't be, but I am."

I don't think Neria heard me because she jumped right into the next thing she had to say. And to be honest I expected tears or shouting but Neria delivered it all in quiet, calm, 'scared little girl' mode.

"I think I hate Duncan. I don't hate Alistair, or the Grey Wardens, but Duncan... He didn't even ask me if I wanted to be a Warden; he just said, "Right of Conscription!" and the next thing I knew he was walking me out of the Tower. I didn't even get a chance to say to goodbye or gather my things or do you know what this is?" She held up a small comb that appeared to be carved out of bone or ivory. "My mother gave me this." Neria pulled it close to herself and ran her fingers gently over the teeth. "I think she did. Right before the Templars took me away. It was in my chest in the Tower and I had to leave it behind and I didn't get it until we went back to the Tower. So now I carry it everywhere because it's the last little thing I have to remind me of home and I almost lost it because of Duncan. So if you can't get home because I made you a Warden I'm sorry but at least you're alive and still have a chance to get there and it's okay if you hate me. Just…go home when all this is over."

I don't think going home's an option any more. But I couldn't tell Neria that, although there was something I could reassure her about. "I don't hate you."

Neria opened her mouth to answer but, finally, there was a dramatically-timed interruption.

"My lady Warden," Selda said as she stuck her head in the door, "you have a message from Steward Bandalore." She held up a slip of paper.

Neria closed her eyes and shook her head.

"My lady?"

Neria looked up and sighed. She'd turned back into the Warden. "I'll take it." The paper exchanged hands and Neria broke the seal. She only needed a few seconds to read it. "Maker. Selda?"

"My lady?"

"Tell everybody to gear up; we've been summoned to the Assembly."

"Even me?" I asked.

"All of us. But there's more." Neria set her jaw and read from the message. "'The Living Paragon has returned to her city and an Assembly is called. Bring the Ancient Paragon's Crown so that the king may be selected.'"

* * *

><p>Alistair leaned over to me. "How can you just sit here like this?"<p>

I shrugged. "Hurry up and wait. Learned it in the army. That's why I brought this." I tapped the journal.

"Be ready to act at any time," Sten rumbled, "but take no action until needed."

Alistair glanced over. "Another lesson of the Qun?"

"Precisely. And if you are feeling impatient I suggest you follow the dwarf's example. We will be called upon to act in time."

Oghren was, quite sensibly, taking a nap, and using a snoozing Cullen as a pillow.

The Assembly Chamber is ebbing and flowing with dwarves and conversation. Orzammar's timelessness even extends in here; we've been here for a while, at least an hour or two, just waiting in the VIP seats in various states of restlessness. Neria had been sitting formally and holding the crown, but now it's tucked under her feet and she's gossiping with Morrigan.

Dwarven nobles are eyeing us with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. I don't really blame them; I feel the same way. I have no clue what Branka's going to do when she gets here. If she ever gets here.

But, eventually, the time came. There was a sudden influx of dwarves, the background chatter fell away, and the Steward's voice rang out.

"Arise!"

Harrowmont was already there, but Bhelen strolled in looking ice cold. He and his determined-looking retinue took a seat in his house's box.

Zevran spoke quietly from behind me. "They do indeed look ready to kill."

"I don't doubt it," I answered. We were armed, but in dress armor; that is, just the tops, no leggings. But we did have the mages on our side; I was hoping that would be enough if things came down to violence.

"Shh!" Wynne scolded.

There were some dwarven formalities (a roll call and an invoking of the Ancestors, among other things) that took way too long, but the Steward finally got down to business.

"Please, be seated. All here should know we have honored guests with us. Neria and Alistair, Grey Wardens both, and their cohort. It was on our behalf they braved the Deep Roads for two-score wakings. Their tale was, admittedly, difficult to believe, but Prince Bhelen, Lord Harrowmont, Lord Shaper Czibor, myself, and others, have examined the Wardens' claims, admit them to be genuine, and are prepared to admit them into the Shaperate's memories." Bandalore held up a thick volume and placed it on the podium in front of him and started speaking in dwarvish (with a translation courtesy of Oghren). "These are the valuable events we wish to remember so that our descendants may know and learn from them. Their importance is such that the Assembled Houses must hear them and consider them and act upon them. May the Ancestors open our minds as we consider these memories and open our hearts as we act upon them, and may our descendants see that we chose our paths with humility and wisdom. So say we all."

Oghren grumbled a bit more in dwarvish but didn't translate what he'd said.

The Assembly responded in dwarvish. "So say we all."

"Rutting deshyrs," Oghren snarled. "You know, I may be houseless but-"

Wynne leaned over. "Shh!"

Another phrase in dwarvish. "Assembled Houses, I give you the memories." Bandalore switched back to Ferelden and opened the book. "Know that on the twenty-first day of August, in the thirtieth year of the Age of the Dragon, as the surface kingdoms track their days, a pair of Grey Wardens arrived in Orzammar…."

I let Bandalore go for a couple of minutes then leaned over to Oghren.

He'd already put his head back down but answered before I could ask the question. "Yep, he's gonna read that entire book. Might as well get comfortable."

I took a look around the Assembly. Dwarves were already starting to fall asleep, although there was at least one wakeful and alert dwarf in each box. Still, I stood up as quietly as I could. "Screw this; I gotta take a leak."

* * *

><p>"Assembled Houses, I ask that in recognition of the service which has been performed for Orzammar we honor the Grey Wardens and their cohort with the formal thanks of the Assembly."<p>

Both Harrowmont and Bhelen jumped to their feet. Harrowmont inclined his head to Bhelen, who in turned stared harshly at Harrowmont before speaking.

"Steward, your acclaim for the Wardens is honorable, and I ask that a full vote be taken to decide the matter."

Bandalore bowed. "Prince Bhelen has called the question. What are your answers…?"

Oy. Another roll call, but this one to determine whether or not we'd get an award. It took a while, but eventually most of the houses voted 'yes', although I think the last houses voted in favor just to get the vote done. Some of the 'no' votes were troubling, though; objections were raised over our taking on the Carta ("Topsiders should not meddle in our affairs!"), going after Branka ("The will of a Paragon isn't to be questioned!"), giving Oghren honors ("Drunken houseless sod!"), and somebody yelled something about onion rings upsetting their mother's stomach.

But the vote passed, so we were asked to stand and come forward, and we stood in the middle of the Assembly chamber fidgeting and feeling very exposed at the lack of cover. It didn't help that each house's representative was gently thumping a staff on the stone; we were all pretty jumpy during the presentation. The Steward and another dwarf approached us; the second dwarf was carrying a tray full of pendants. Starting with Neria and Alistair we were each, including Oghren and Cullen, given a pendant.

When it was my turn I knelt and let Bandalore put the silver metal chain over my head. He quietly said, "Orzammar honors you," and went on down the line.

I took a long look at the pendant when we sat back down. It's in the shape of a hammer and fits easily in my palm. But it's a stylized hammer made of dwarven runes. And the runes look like they were made from a single long piece of thick wire of the same metal as the chain. The crafter bent and twisted and knotted the wire in and around on itself; when I try following the wire with an eye or finger I quickly get lost in the knotwork. There's a single, polished amber stone set in the middle of the hammer's head; it's only held in place by the knotwork. The effect is of an eye staring out of the hammer, although when it's backlit the stone glows like lava.

Pretty cool.

* * *

><p>We'd sat around and waited a while after the award ceremony. I didn't catch much chatter but got the idea that they were waiting on Branka. I couldn't guess at how long it took her to show up, but now I know why Neria and Alistair were so pissed about sitting through an Assembly session. But then, finally…<p>

"Assembled Houses, I give you the Living Paragon, Branka."

That woke everybody up. Branka marched in wearing her armor and a thoroughly pissed-off expression. I don't blame her; she obviously didn't want to be there anymore than we wanted her there, but the guards flanking her weren't giving her a choice. They weren't acting like she was a prisoner, but the sentiment was easy to read.

The Assembly didn't care, though. They stood as one and thumped their staves again even as whispers about her presence zipped around the chamber. Bandalore bowed and spoke quietly to Branka; she snorted in return, and then Bandalore called the Assembly to silence.

Oy. More ceremony. Lots of it. Branka just stood there letting it roll over her; we sat and fidgeted impatiently and waited for it to be done. And then, finally, it was, and Bandalore asked Bhelen and Harrowmont to come down to the floor, and then called Neria out, too.

"And Warden, would you be so kind as to bring the Ancient Paragon's crown with you?"

That was Neria's cue. She stood up stiffly and nearly forgot to grab the crown before leaving our box. She recovered gracefully and loosened up as she walked out to the center of the chamber sans staff. The rest of us tensed as she did. I became very aware of my sword. Beside me Alistair was flexing his sword hand; on my opposite side Leliana had a discreet hand on a knife. Cullen's growl rumbled through the box; so did Sten's.

We didn't have to worry. Branka may have stared evilly at Neria but she didn't make a hostile move, and Bandalore interposed himself smoothly.

"Warden," he said, "the crown."

Neria handed it off like it was a live grenade.

Bandalore turned to Branka. "Living Paragon, is this the crown forged by the Ancient Paragon?"

"It is."

A dull roar rose from the Assembly; it took a few minutes to subside.

"Living Paragon, what was the Ancient Paragon's will concerning the crown?"

Branka scowled even deeper. "It is to be placed upon the one most worthy of being king."

Another muted cheer from the Assembly.

"Then I beseech you, Living Paragon, that you honor us by not only expressing your will but also the will of the Ancient Paragon. Please, select the one you both find worthy." Bandalore stepped forward, knelt, and offered Branka the crown.

Branka's scowl fought with surprise but the scowl won as she took the crown. Everybody hushed; the only sound I could hear was everybody's breathing. I readied my pen; so did Leliana and the two dwarven scribes I could see across the floor. It was so quiet the room twitched when Bandalore broke the silence by asking Neria to sit back down.

Branka stared at the crown forever. The scowl slowly disappeared from her face; I'm not sure what replaced it, but she started pacing up around the center of the chamber. Then she stopped walking, started speaking, and started walking again.

"So this is what the Assembly has come to: a bunch of tired old nobles too afraid to make a decision without a Paragon staring over their shoulder. The very Paragon who wasn't afraid to take to the Deep Roads with a faint hope of doing something to keep what's left of our empire from crumbling down around us. No, you preferred to sit here and squabble over the remnants of the past like a pack of deepstalkers squabbling over a rat. And when you finally decided you actually needed your Paragon you sent these hirelings after me rather than having the stones to come yourself."

Branka stopped in front of us. "At least they had the stones to actually do something besides sit around and argue. And it's true: they may have destroyed the last hope we have of being able truly fight back against the darkspawn, but at least they took action when you didn't. For that – for that only – I can honor them, but they may have doomed us all."

Branka started pacing again. "But the Ancient Paragon…. The Ancient Paragon, had you met him, seen him, you would've seen a glimpse of our ancient glory and our possible future. His skills, his secrets – lost now." She tightened up and glared at us again.

"No matter. I was dragged back to Orzammar to fulfill the duty of a Paragon, and fulfill it I will. And these – these are the contenders for the crown? The scavengers for power? The purest vein, or the contaminated ore? Hmmph.

"Lord Harrowmont. Bound in and by tradition. Tradition above all else; why do we do things? Because we've always done them that way. Hmmph! That's why we're in the loose sand we're in now. If you had your way you'd shut those gates and keep the topsiders out and everyone else in, but one day the gates'll open back up and you know what they'll find? If they're lucky, nothing. No darkspawn; just an empty city filled with the bones of every dwarf too stupid or too scared to run to the surface. So which is it? Are you too stupid or too scared to change?" Branka stopped and spit at Harrowmont's feet.

Gotta say I very gently sighed with relief at this point because there was no way Branka was giving Harrowmont the crown. Hell, everybody in the chamber knew it; Bhelen was swelling up like he'd eaten some bad shrooms.

Branka saw him, though, and deflated him immediately. "And you, you miserable little cretin."

Bhelen started to say something.

Branka kept going. "I am your Paragon; don't seek to defy me! Your father saw your potential. Why do think he took you out of the succession? Oh, don't look so surprised; he told me that years ago. You act, but you don't think, and when things don't go your way you have a tantrum or stab something."

"You can't-"

Branka practically shouted at Bhelen. "Who knows? Maybe you'd figure out how to be a king instead of an indulged child who had to scheme his way onto the throne. After all, I don't see your brother or sister anywhere, do I? And to think the Aeducans were blessed with _three _children. Bah! We spend more time and effort killing each other than we do darkspawn."

"The crown is mine!"

"Temper, temper. Hmph. You want really this, don't you? Fine. See if you can take it."

That got a gasp from the Assembly and a cut off cheer from Bhelen's box. Bhelen actually lunged for the crown; the guy's pretty quick but, like us, Branka's reflexes were razor sharp. Bhelen's head snapped back as Branka _clonk_ed him in the chin with the crown. Bhelen didn't get a chance to react to that because Branka caught him in the side of the head with her backswing. Bhelen went down and oozed crimson onto the floor as a ruby bounced into a corner like a runaway die.

Branka looked satisfied. The Assembly looked shocked. We looked confused.

Bandalore looked resigned. "Your decision, Paragon?"

Branka grinned evilly. "You wanted to know the will of the Living Paragon. Well, you heard it." She walked towards us. "You could put a drunken nug on the throne for all I care." She stopped and locked her eyes on-

Oghren was finally showing interest in the proceedings. He held his hands out. "Gimme the rutting thing. Heh. Hail to the king, darling."

"No. I wouldn't inflict you upon anyone." Branka caught me with her eyes. "You. Pretending to be a shaper. Wanna pretend to be a king?"

Bhelen swore from where he was holding his head.

I shook my head. "Sorry, but I've got other plans."

Branka smirked and looked to my left. "What about you, pretty boy? Wanna be king?"

Alistair choked; I don't know how I didn't.

Branka turned to Neria. "Warden. Caridin gave you this crown and told you to 'place it upon the one most worthy' to be king. He told you to do this; not me. And who am I to defy the will of a Paragon?" She stepped up to Neria, gently handed her the crown, and hissed something that I couldn't hear.

Neria's face hardened and she hissed back; I couldn't hear that, either. But she accepted the crown.

Branka smiled unpleasantly. "You've already promised to do that. Perhaps after the Blight is over." She turned around and faced Bandalore. "Steward, the Warden expresses the will of the Ancient Paragon, and Living Paragon's as well. Whoever the Warden chooses has my support. _My full support_. Now dismiss me from this charade."

Bandalore's face was hard but he bowed. "You are dismissed, Paragon."

Branka didn't say another word; she simply strolled out with her guards hustling to keep up. Bhelen rolled over and groaned; he's lucky if only has a concussion. Harrowmont had his jaw locked into place.

Bandalore has great coping skills; he ignored both contenders and spoke up with his normal professionalism. "Warden, do you need some time to make your decision?"

"Uh…."

Bandalore inclined his head. "May the Ancestors guide your thoughts."

* * *

><p>"Harrowmont is too soft."<p>

"And Bhelen makes me feel dirty."

"How would you know? You've never met him!"

"But Harrowmont…he's…you heard what Branka said about him."

"Harrowmont could not inspire his own men to fight in the Proving."

"Bhelen almost assuredly killed his siblings; do we want to reward that?"

"He'll probably start a civil war if we don't."

"There are ways around that, but to be honest, I prefer Bhelen."

* * *

><p>Neria walked unsteadily out into the chamber and stopped just short of Bandalore. Harrowmont was standing as confidently as he could, given the circumstances. Bhelen was foolishly sitting up with Vartag's help and looked ready to spit nails.<p>

"Erk." Neria cleared her throat and tried again. "I have a question: will the new king honor our treaty?"

Bandalore nodded. "Warden, our Ancestors pledged their descendants to the Grey Wardens. Any king that ignored that pledge would have no honor."

"By my Ancestors you'll have your army," Harrowmont repeated.

Bhelen waved Vartag off. "You'll get your army, Warden."

Bandalore raised an eyebrow. "I daresay you'll have your army."

Neria turned a paler than usual face to the Assembly as a whole. "Does my choice have the support of the Assembly?"

There was a muted rumbling in response.

Vartag leaned in and whispered something to Bhelen. Bhelen just waved him off again.

Harrowmont spoke up again. "If I may, Steward. Warden, you represent not one, but two Paragons. By their will, their decision is yours, your decision is theirs, and-" He winced as he continued. "-who are we to question the will of the Paragons?"

Another rumbling, this one a bit louder.

"Shall I call a question?" Bandalore asked.

"No vote!" somebody yelled. "We'll support the new king!"

"So will we!" "And us!"

Harrowmont raised his voice over the din. "By the honor of my Ancestors I pledge my loyalty to whoever the Warden selects!"

"Good enough for me!"

I don't think it was good enough for Bhelen because he was starting to look psychotic, but I don't think anybody else noticed.

Bandalore waved his arms in the multiversal 'quiet, please' gesture. It took a minute or so for the chamber to fall back to silence. "Warden, does this satisfy you?"

Neria nodded and swallowed hard and held out the dented crown. "Yes, it does."

By that point I'd stopped caring who she was going to select. Yeah, Bhelen would be a better choice, but I just wanted it all over with.

"Steward Bandalore," she said in a strong, confident tone, "I choose you."

Bhelen ignored his injury and leapt to his feet. He actually weaved as he yelled, "You'll let a topsider decide our fate?"

"I will not!" Vartag drew a sword. "For Bhelen!"

There were scattered answering shouts. "For Bhelen!"

Harrowmont spoke up. "You cannot! The Paragons chose-"

"No!" Bhelen shouted. He yanked his mace from his belt and lifted it and actually took a step towards Neria and Bandalore. "I…won't…abide…" His voice ran down and he staggered sideways. Understandable given Zevran's knife sticking out of his eye. He hit the floor with a _clank_.

"Nice throw, elf!"

"Grazi, mio amico robusto."

Vartag gaped stupidly at Bhelen's corpse, worked his mouth a couple of times, then permanently shut it when Leliana's knife slammed into his neck. Then he blew up when Neria's tightly focused fireball hit him.

We were primed and ready if necessary. Zevran and Leliana both had more knives ready to throw; I have no doubt they had targets selected. Alistair and I had already vaulted out of our box and only needed a few steps to cover Neria, but Cullen had beat us to her. Sten looked ready to chop his way around the chamber, and all three mage staffs were glowing.

Oghren had jumped up on his seat and gave a sharp whistle. "So! Anybody else for Bhelen?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: sorry about the schedule slip, but real life has imposed its demands. I'm enrolled in a semester-long course to help maintain a professional certification, and, as you might imagine, it involves a lot of writing. Hopefully the dry reporting style won't bleed back into this, but I do need to make that class a priority._

_The decision to go with Bandalore as king was agreed on between myself and _**Beta Reader**_. We've had a long discussion regarding the long-term implications of this; let's see how things work out._

**BROvolone:** _and all those measurements are precisely defined engineering terms._

**SnowHelm: ** _and that was just the first of Jeff's Warden nightmares…. I'd always wondered why the foreign Wardens didn't send more support to Ferelden, and I guess we know why now. The bastards._

**Gamerof1458, Lord Xenocide: ** _thank you. I've always been able to spot the humor even in serious and dramatic moments, so when I've got a free hand to use it…. Take a look at Chapter 12 of _**On That Day,**_ for example._

**Phygmalion: **_as always, I appreciate the kind words. _[MINOR SPOILER]_ Thing's line is going to give Jeff an idea. Oh, and Jeff said not to ask about knowing what gasoline tastes like._

**Shinkansen: **_politics above, and more to come. Hope I haven't disappointed._

**Gillian Grayson: ** _I always figured dwarven brandy would have a non-alcoholic kick to it. As for the party only Sten, Wynne, and Selda know everything that went down._

**PoptartProdigy, Riptide Monzarc: ** _definitely a placeholder chapter there. And as I've said before I've got a bad liking for filler and love thinking about the little things the heroes go through just to make it to the next day. I know Commander Shepard is going to kick ass during the next ground mission, but what I'm really interested in is what happened during the marathon poker game that ended up with Gabby in sick bay, Joker having a broken nose, and Garrus wearing Traynor's bra on his head._

**Guest: ** _thank you. Neria's definitely hardening up, and Alistair's probably pretty far along as well. We've got a few more tough and possibly controversial decisions coming up. Stay tuned!_

**cmitts93: **_I've been doing a bit of leaning on the fourth wall throughout the story (although, given the narrative device I'm using, there's not really much of one) but I'd almost say things got a bit meta-fictional in that passage. Glad you're enjoying the story, and yes, I do plan on wrapping things up._


	82. kthxbai

Leliana and I found a quiet corner and put some finishing touches on our accounts of the king making, but we'd been sitting in the Assembly Chamber for at least half a day and we were both exhausted. So with an empty stomach and unsteady hand I bid her goodnight.

She nodded sagely at me. "Bhelen's coup attempt was well spotted. Your warning was opportune."

"And your and Zevran's throws were perfect. Glad we got out of that with only two bodies."

A smile. Friendly and warm, but a little guarded I think. "As am I. Good night, Jeffrey."

And so to sleep.

And into the Fade.

I sat down in a non-descript chair and stared at Amy across a non-descript table. There was no sign of the Archdemon. "I think it's safe right now."

Amy smiled.

[hissing]

"Control-"

"Call him a pet and we're done. Forever." I don't know what she wants from me, but she wouldn't be hanging around if she didn't want something, so that was a valid threat.

The smile broadened. "I forgot. Very well. Now, as to our business…."

"Did you get me home?"

Somehow the smile grew even wider. And showed way too many teeth. "As far as I could. It was up to you to finish the journey. You failed."

"But can-"

The smile snapped shut. "I've given you all I wish to give. If you wish to learn more you must offer me something."

"And what do you want?"

"A chance to experience a world beyond the Fade. A world to which you're tethered will do nicely."

"And I've told you a possession ain't happening."

Amy shrugged and smiled again. "But the scrap of knowledge you seek is worth but a glimpse, is it not?"

I shook my head firmly. "I have no desire to wake up as an abomination."

"I know your desires. But perhaps I could see this world as I asked to see yours. The world as you truly experience it, not this reflection of your memories." She waved her hand behind me.

[questioning hiss]

I looked around. The open area we'd been sitting in was now the Warden Compound's dining room. I shook my head and refocused on Amy. "No."

"Come now. A quick glimpse is all I ask. Half a dozen heartbeats, and you are yourself again."

Simple answer. "No."

Amy actually pouted. It looked cute, but I'm (usually) not that easily swayed. "Oh, come now. What harm could come of it?"

Back home the worst probable outcome is anti-psychotic meds and a lot of therapy regarding the voices in my head. I was willing to risk that. Here the best outcome is probably being trapped in the Fade until my body gives up and my essence is incorporated into a demon's. No thanks. "No thanks."

"Very well." Amy looked around and shrugged. "Then wake up!"

She flipped the table at me. I heard Thing's startled hiss and my own intake of breath and I sat straight up in the too-soft bed in my quarters in the Wardens' compound.

Everything looked right. Everything felt right. But I wasn't sure it was right. I opened the shade on the glowstone and the soft, slightly yellowish light filled the room. I went looking for my knife but couldn't find it. "Okay, where the hell did you go?"

I jumped when someone knocked at the door. When my heart started beating again I staggered over and yanked it open. My heart stopped again when I saw Amy standing there holding the knife. "Looking for this?"

I sat straight up in the too-soft bed in my quarters in the Wardens' compound.

Everything looked right. Everything felt right. But I still wasn't sure it was right. I opened the shade on the glowstone and the soft slightly yellowish light filled the room. No problem finding my knife this time and I instantly performed a reality check.

Reality? I think I'll decide when the heart attack is over.

* * *

><p>"You caused a riot when you arrived. At least two of you broke confinement immediately after. At least one of you stole goods. Another revealed trade secrets. Another fixed betting on Proving matches. Lord Harrowmont's name was associated with falsehoods. The Carta; the rutting Carta…. And then another riot, and a second one when you were just rumored to have returned, a third one when those rumors proved false, then another one when you did return. You assaulted, captured, and held a Paragon, and destroyed a priceless dwarven artifact. Guards were bribed, threatened, and assaulted. A prohibition on weapons was ignored. The Aeducan line was quite possibly ended."<p>

Captain Thrand read from a list. It wasn't supposed to be a list of charges, but it sounded suspiciously like one.

"We have been busy, haven't we?" We all turned to stare at Alistair, who in turn shrugged. "Well, when you read it all out like that, we do sound like a bunch of hooligans."

Thrand shrugged back. "This is the short list." He frowned at us. "I think you've been fresh air, but the King, Ancestors guide him, took a look at what you've already done and is worried about what you'll do next. Not to mention the other laws you've broken, the traditions you've violated, and, well…." He tossed a paper on the table.

It skidded to a stop in front of Zevran. "'By order of King Bandalore the Grey Wardens and their cohort must depart Orzammar by the end of the current waking. Their reentry will be negotiated at a later time.'"

"There's more, but aside from you getting your army it's not really important." Thrand shrugged again and looked sincerely sorry. "Time for you to leave."

* * *

><p><strong>18 Harvestmere<strong>

There's a warm, orange-yellow glow reflected in the few clouds scudding above the Orzammar gates. From our vantage point a few miles away we can see trees backlit like a giant nightlight, larger, flickering shadows against the dully lit rock, and the occasional leap of flames from a particularly flammable source. Upper Orzammar's on fire, but it's not our fault.

Well, mostly not our fault.

I'll give it to Loghain's men: they're patient. Fortunately for us their attention span didn't measure up. We were stopping for supplies in Upper Orzammar and got hit while shopping. Of course, we fought back with precisely directed violence. Who am I kidding? Anybody who got in our way went down fast and hard and we didn't really worry about collateral damage. We're still on edge; Loghain's men were slow and lazy after sitting around waiting for us for two months.

Let's see: I retrieved Bill and killed a couple of Loghain's goons, accused Zevran (who killed a couple of goons himself) of not being able to disarm traps, and watched Morrigan turn into a (ugh) giant spider (and she took down even more goons). Sten and Oghren turned themselves into a mismatched set of blenders. Cullen tore apart what they missed. Neria froze anybody that got close. Alistair hacked his way into the back side of an ambush. Wynne secured our departure with runes. And Leliana shot a knucklehead who happened to be in the middle of throwing a Molotov cocktail.

That's what started the fire.

See? Totally not our fault.

Neria's over talking with a couple of dwarves from the Orzammar guards. As soon as they realized what was going on they came swarming out of the Gates. They picked up most of what we missed, and they weren't as worried about as being precise as we were.

There was a sudden burst of blue amongst the yellow flames that made everybody shut up and look.

"Oh, dear," Zevran said quietly.

"What?" Alistair asked.

"Brandy," the elf replied. "And a great deal of it."

"How…do you know?"

"The flames, my amico bionda. See how they're colored?"

Alistair tried again. "But _how_ do you know."

"It's a long story, but trust me, it is brandy. I only hope it isn't Antivan."

"Brandy?" Neria asked. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"What a waste," Neria said. "I guess that makes us the fucking bastards."

"I totally agree, mio capo bella."

Alistair leaned into me. "You think we'll ever be welcome back here?"

Wynne spoke up from behind us. "Perhaps you should give them a couple of years."

* * *

><p><strong>19 Harvestmere<strong>

"Hey. Shaper. Pretty boy. Got another question for you."

Alistair and I exchanged glances as we packed up our tent. Well, the men's tent. Turns out a couple of them had dry rotted while we were in Orzammar. Made the night cozy. Anyway….

Oghren's been full of questions. ("Where do I sleep?" "What's that critter? Is it good to eat?" "What's for supper?" "Who just busted arse?" You know: the important stuff.) Without even thinking about it we shot; Alistair lost. "What is it?"

"All this snow stuff. Does it hold the trees down? Cause when I do this-" Oghren smacked a hand axe against a tree trunk. The pine quivered, its branches shook, and a few cubic feet of snow dropped on Alistair and me. "-it all falls down. Yep, just like that. Heh, heh."

Alistair shivered and swore as he shook snow off his head. "I'm not sure. Why don't you go ask Morrigan?"

Oghren snorted and gave him an evil grin. "Heh. You think I'm stupid. Heh. It's gonna be fun working topside with you."

* * *

><p>Guard duty isn't fun, but can be tolerable. Having to pull it in the winter with a nice snowpack and sub-freezing temps makes it less so. But with my winter coat as a top layer I'm reasonably comfortable.<p>

And it doesn't hurt to have someone to talk to.

"If you're cold I've got a heavy shirt you're welcome to use."

Morrigan's expression was hidden in the darkness. She'd added a layer of cloth to her outfit, and had a cloak wrapped around herself, but there couldn't be much insulation involved. Then again, she hadn't been acting cold. "I thank you for the offer, but I am warm enough."

"Are you sure? Because-"

"I am sure. The Wilds are cold, not as cold as this, but certainly damper. Yet Flemeth taught me well, and I have means of keeping warm."

I was sure she did. "Okay, but if you change your mind…."

It wasn't so dark that Morrigan's bow couldn't be seen. "Again, I thank you, and will remember your offer."

I felt my brain shift gears. "Speaking of offers, I have a question."

There was a little shockwave from Morrigan's eyebrow.

I kept going. "The demon. The one I'm dealing with. It told me what it wants." I briefly outlined what Amy'd offered the day before.

Morrigan listened, carefully I think, and then shook her head. "You are a fool if you believe a demon will volunteer to give up even a toehold in our world. And I do not believe you are a fool."

"I'd like to think that, but it doesn't hurt to make sure."

"So you know the answer, yet ask me anyway?"

"I wanted a second opinion. You know, just to make sure my thoughts are straight."

Morrigan hesitated before answering. "In this matter your thoughts are straight. I am not as certain regarding other matters."

"And I thought I was doing okay."

"You did ask for a second opinion."

I couldn't tell if she was being snarky or not. Not that it matters. "Thanks anyway."

"You are welcome."

* * *

><p><strong>20 Harvestmere<strong>

Wynne lifted up the corner of the blanket in the back of the cart and spoke soothingly. "Oghren. There's nothing to worry about. You're safe, and you can come out anytime."

We could all hear the gurgle from the dwarf's flask. "No! Not until that…thing goes away."

"Do you mean the sun? Or the-"

"Rutting lava ball in the sky! The sodding sky!" More gurgling.

Wynne looked around helplessly. We shrugged back at her helplessly. "We'll be back under the trees soon-"

"Just give me the rutting rope!"

Wynne shrugged and pushed it under the blanket. There was more swearing in both dwarvish and Fereldan as Oghren tied himself off.

"Get this sodding thing moving!"

Zevran flicked the reins with a grin and Bill did her thing.

Neria walked past shaking her head, Cullen prancing in the snow behind her. Sten caught my eye with a puzzled expression; I shrugged back and we both started walking. Morrigan's smirk went from ear to ear. And despite the quiet scolding he was getting from Leliana Alistair had an insanely stupid grin on his face.

I guess we're off again.

* * *

><p><strong>21 Harvestmere<strong>

I smashed a squealing darkspawn with my shield and sent it tumbling backwards over the parapet. My sword took care of the next one, and the one after that. But, even though I was dreaming, my limbs were leaden, my breath shallow, and my thoughts desperate. There were just too many darkspawn, and I couldn't win against them. I could hold on for a while longer, but eventually they'd overrun me.

"I don't understand why you struggle so."

I ignored the comment and delivered another shield smash.

The Archdemon, in his/its human form stepped up next to me, looked over the edge, and then at me. "All you have to do is embrace the blessing. Your struggles will be over."

I stabbed and slashed and smashed.

"You must be exhausted. And to continue struggling is just foolish."

I kept hacking at darkspawn and while trying unsuccessfully to call up a rifle.

"Simply give in and they're yours to command."

"And you'll – command me – to command – them."

"To some extent, to be sure. But as I promised you'll retain some spark of what you are."

I kept fighting.

The Archdemon's voice suddenly became sad. "Why do you treat your brothers so?"

"They're – not my – brothers! And you're not-" I spun around, sword perfectly level and perfectly angled to deliver an eviscerating cut.

It didn't land. The Archdemon moved a lot faster than I thought he could and caught my arm. Something snapped but I didn't care because Urthemiel's fist came over my shield and crunched into my face. I didn't care much about that either; I was too busy being picked up and hoisted to the battlement.

Urthemiel stared at me beseechingly. "Join us."

I swung my shield at him but it didn't do much good.

His face hardened. "Very well," he hissed. "Until next time."

And then threw me off the wall and into the horde of darkspawn.

They tore me apart.

* * *

><p>I woke up barely able to breathe and suddenly realized something had changed.<p>

It's hard to describe the sensation in my head, but it's a kind of a tugging awareness like the kind you get when you're out somewhere and suddenly look up and make eye contact with a complete stranger at the same time they're making eye contact with you. It's just that instant of shared awareness and acknowledgement of each other; that brief instant of connectedness you get with someone at the other end of the soup aisle before you go back to deciding between chicken noodle and chicken with rice.

Except it keeps going.

That's how I feel with Neria right now. I know she's there. I know she knows I'm there. Etc. It's not empathic (and definitely not telepathic), but I can tell that she's physically fine and fairly close by, and somewhere off to my right. Alistair's just a light touch right now, but he's close by, too, even though the feeling's not as strong.

We've got a few doses of Avernus' potion left. We might need to talk Alistair into drinking one.

* * *

><p>Alistair, Neria, and I found a fairly private spot for lunch. Nothing fancy; just a solid travel meal from the supplies we'd purchased (semi-dearly) as we left Orzammar. The privacy wasn't anything fancy, either; just a flat rock and a dry log concealed behind some brush. But we laid out our food and the three of us started talking. (Well, four if you count Cullen. And the funny thing is I can feel him the same way I can feel Alistair.)<p>

Neria was shivering and not from the cold. "It talks to me, too. It says I can birth a sea of children who'll love and honor me." She stared glumly a hunk of sausage then took a bite as her stomach growled. She mumbled something else as she chewed.

Alistair looked a bit somber. "I keep dreaming about leading a horde of darkspawn. We, uhm, sack towns."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, or we're getting torn apart by the horde."

Neria nodded back. "Me, too." She kept shivering.

I asked the obvious question. "What were the nightmares like before the Blight?"

Alistair shrugged. "Sometimes it felt like I was a darkspawn and I was, well, sacking villages. Other times I could hear them singing and calling to me. At least that's what it sounded like." He chuckled. "I never thought I'd miss those dreams."

Neria stopped shivering. "So if there's no Archdemon the nightmares…get better? Hmph. Almost gives us something to look forward to."

Alistair smiled. "Now see, that's the spirit."

"But until then…?"

"We keep tweaking the Archdemon's nose."

Neria scowled. "Jeff, what's that word you use?"

I was lost in thought and spoke without thinking. "Oy."

"Oy." Neria nodded and rubbed her eyes. "So all we have to do is kill the Archdemon, end the Blight, and everything sort of goes back to normal? Oy." She shook her head. "I guess it helps to know what it means."

I didn't answer; I was thinking about the future.

"Well?" Neria suddenly asked. She was staring hard at me.

"Maker," Alistair mumbled.

"'Well' what?" I answered.

"You've got that look you get when you know something. Are you going to tell us?"

"Yeah, but…." I still hadn't figured out how to broach the subject. I looked up and caught their eyes. Alistair looked confused; Neria just kept staring hard at me. Cullen was giving me puppy-dog eyes so I dropped a hunk of cheese for him.

"Hey!" Alistair protested.

"Okay," I said. Just might as well drop the bomb. "Alistair."

He gave me a faux-grumpy look. "Yes?"

"Didn't Duncan tell you what happens to the Warden that kills the Archdemon?"

Alistair responded with a 'well, I wasn't expecting that' expression. "Well, uhm, no."

Neria looked confused.

I stuttered a bit while talking, but pushed through. "When I was researching the Wardens, I came across a pattern. No Warden has ever survived killing an Archdemon. I'm pretty sure something happens when they kill an Archdemon. The Warden…dies too."

Alistair suddenly rolled his eyes. "You're having me on."

Neria'd been holding her breath because she suddenly exhaled. "Jeff, don't-"

"I'm serious."

Beat.

I got a frown from both Wardens.

"I'm completely serious."

Neria's frown turned skeptical.

Alistair's turned thoughtful.

Beat.

Alistair's shoulders slumped. "Maker."

Neria's head snapped around. "What?"

"Oh, Maker." Alistair rubbed his eyes. "He might be right."

"Alistair…." We'd had a couple days of safe, if cold and slow, travel, but the Deep Road edge was back in Neria's voice.

Alistair swallowed hard. "Nobody's sure who killed the first Archdemon, but all the Wardens near it were killed. Corin ended the Second Blight; he died. Carolinus ended the Third Blight, and Garahel the Fourth. They both died, too." He suddenly looked lost. "But I'd always thought…."

Neria's head snapped back around to me. "What happens?"

I just stared into the distance. "I don't know, but I think there's something about the connection to the Archdemon that kills the Warden that kills it." Even to myself I sounded distant.

Neria snapped back to Alistair. "Let me guess: something else Duncan didn't tell you about?"

"He didn't! I promise! Oh, Maker, Jeff! Are you sure?"

Both snapped to me; I nodded. "As sure as I can be."

Neria's fists clenched and she moaned. "There's always…something else." She jumped to her feet and snatched up what she could of her lunch. "Just…both of you. Leave me alone." She stalked off, still shivering.

Cullen hopped to his feet, scarfed up what Neria dropped and trotted along after her.

Alistair stared at me helplessly.

What I said next really hurt. I mean, Alistair's a nice guy and it fucking sucks jerking him around. But it would suck more not jerking him. "I'm sorry, man. I thought you knew."

* * *

><p><strong>22 Harvestmere<strong>

All the pressure that I'd felt on the way to and in Orzammar had pretty much disappeared by the time we'd left the Deep Roads. I didn't get a chance to follow up with Erlind and company, and I certainly didn't anticipate Bandelore [sp!], but I was sleeping again and actually felt like things weren't spiraling out of control on me. I thought I was leaning forward and taking hold of my fate and running with it.

Stupid me. I think Fate has something else in store for me.

And that meant I couldn't get to sleep last night, so I took a shift on guard.

"So now do you hate me?" It was too dark to see Neria's face but the tone was unmistakably guilty.

"I don't hate you. I promise."

"Pinky swear or spit in the hand?" Bitterly guilty.

Still, I smiled at that even though didn't really feel it. "Either one. Your choice. Or both if you want. I don't hate you."

"You should. I made you a Warden. I didn't want to, but I wanted you to have a chance to get home. And now you might not."

"I probably won't anyway."

"How can you be so calm about it?"

Oh, I'm not. "Cause I don't think there's much I can do about it. I'll either get home or I won't. I probably won't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be; it's not your fault." But part of me is still so pissed about her just not letting me die. I just keep telling myself it's not her fault. I'm starting to believe it.

"Hey, missy! Shaper! You know, it's not so bad out here when it's dark like this." Oghren drank deep and staggered into me. "Except the sodding snow is too rutting cold on the stones." He shoved the flask into my hand.

I took a hit off the flask and passed it to Neria. "It's good for them. The cold. It's good for your stones. Makes you more…manly."

Neria snarfed and coughed.

Oghren recovered his flask. "Takes a lot to make me more manly, but there's a lot of rutting snow. Anyway, either of you seen my pants?"

"Uh, no," Neria coughed.

"Right! Maybe that elf took'em."

I knew where this was supposed to go. "Try the dog."

Oghren snatched his flask back from Neria. "Right." He spun around and trudged away. "Where are you, you stone-licking nughumper?"

I watched the dwarf stagger away to play his role and had a ding moment regarding mine. With that bit of clarity the doubts and the stress melted away (for a little bit, anyway) and everything just went fatalistic. I think I'm supposed to be the one to take down the Archdemon. And if I do, well, maybe the soul-destroying thing will cut me loose from this verse and return me to where I want to be. If not, then at least Neria and Alistair get a chance to live a more-or-less quiet life for a while.

Either way I have to remember to ask for a Viking funeral. Although that's supposed to be standard for Ferelden.

Neria started to say something but I cut her off. I reached out and grabbed her and pulled her into a clumsy hug. Not a romantic one; it was intended to just be reassuring.

"I don't hate you. I promise."

I felt her fight me for just a few seconds before she relented.

"Thank you," she whispered, and then she started crying.

I let her sob quietly against me for a little bit and then gave her another squeeze. "Don't worry; we'll get through this."

Neria punched me lightly on my armored chest. "We'd better. All of us. And that means you, too."

I didn't answer.

"Don't worry," Neria said. "We'll figure something out."

* * *

><p><strong>23 Harvestmere<strong>

"Your mood," Sten said as he delicately moved a pawn. "It is improved."

I considered the position and offered a hound. "I've had an epiphany."

Sten stared at the board but didn't move. "Your role has become clear. I believe you have embraced it. In doing so you have calmed yourself." Or did he mean my 'self'?

"You're right, I do feel calmer, but I'm still not happy about the situation."

"Happiness is irrelevant, but you may find purpose and fulfillment as a Grey Warden." He took the hound. "You may also improve your fighting skills."

I immediately moved my queen. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

Sten studied the board. "Merely an observation. You have greatly improved since our meeting, but you still lack Alistair's ability with a sword." He started studying me. "I would ask about another subject."

"Go ahead."

Sten kept his eyes on me. "Your relationship with the bard. Alistair seems to have established a courting relationship with her. Does this not disturb you?"

I looked over to where Leliana was conducting a weapons check. She caught my eye and gave me a wink. "Not really. I don't think there was ever anything between us."

"And yet the two of you participated in courting behavior. That is, it seemed to be courting behavior."

"It's called flirting, and it can be a lot of fun, even if nothing comes of it."

Sten shook his head. "So much effort wasted to no end." His attention went back to the chessboard. "The Qunari way is simpler."

My memory itched. "Wait, didn't you say-"

"I did. I may express a preference for a mate, and the one preferred may express a preference as well, but the final choice is not ours. But should the preference be granted…." Sten attempted to bring his queen back into the game.

"Well. Good luck with that." I really didn't know what else to say or do, so I pushed a pawn.

* * *

><p><em>AN: holy schedule slip, Batman! Well, I did say updates were going to be irregular because of _**Real Life**_ ™ commitments._

**Her Eternal Grimoire, Deadzepplin, The Nemean Lion, blayze1000, great northern one,** _and, of course, everybody else out there: my thanks to all of you, and I appreciate your hanging on to the story so far._

**Ericboy, Lord Xenocide, Shinkansen, Rc1212, Oplindenfep, InsidiousAgent, shom,** _and anybody I've missed: I've got some head canon built up about Bandelore, but my basic take is that he's a strong, practical administrator and knows how to keep things running. A good bureaucrat, in other words, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing._

**cmitts93:** _Zevran doesn't really strike me as the jealous type unless he decides to commit. And poor Jeff, well, given that he doesn't even remember I don't think that even counts as a base on balls._

**Warlock Arkon:** _the Chantry seems to occupy roughly same place the Catholic Church did in the Middle Ages: officially its power is limited, but unofficially they have a great deal of influence and leeway. The Templars in Chapter 42 were actually acting pretty reasonably given the circumstances, but the Bioware canon has Templar reactions all over the map. (And the real life situation that inspired the scene came with the real threat of a beatdown by some Japanese police. Maybe not as life-threatening, but still scary.) _

_Jeff's reactions to killing others are all over the guilty side of the map, but unlike the remote style of modern warfare, in hand-to-hand combat you actually get to see the pretty shade of scared hazel of the other guy's eyes. And you get to see those lights go out. Intellectually Jeff understands the need for killing, but emotionally he was still coming to grips with it._

_Jeff passed the grimoire to Neria in Chapter 34. He doesn't know what she did with it._

**Catz1112: ** _thanks for the kind words. If you're looking for more twists you'll have to wait to see what tomorrow brings._


	83. A Small Surprise

**26 Harvestmere**

Sorry about leaving out the last couple of days, but what can I say about travelling on frozen roads that hasn't already been said? Although since we reached the lake and hit the Imperial Highway we've been making good time despite the turn of weather.

Did I mention the weather?

We got rained on. A lot. So much that I couldn't risk breaking out the diary because we couldn't keep anything dry. (Good thing I've got the MRE pouch to keep it in.) It was that cold, heavy, winter rain that makes you want to stay at home with a strong cup of tea, too many cookies, and a _Twilight Zone_ marathon. The problem is that I'm in the zone, the tea here sucks, but at least we can get cookies in Rainesfere.

Oghren's predictably freaked out by the rain. He didn't have a problem in the Rain Cave, but "it's just sodding unnatural" that water should be falling out of the sky. Although he is confused about rain clouds not being made of stone. Can't say I blame him; they're certainly the right color.

Alistair and Leliana are now officially a thing. Morrigan caught them 'fraternizing,' ratted them out, and mercilessly teased Alistair. (Serves the smug bastard right.) He took that and my ribbing pretty well, but when Neria and Red got together and started giggling he fled to his tent. I am surprised that Sten's encouraging him, but not so surprised that Wynne disapproves.

But we managed to avoid any potential pursuers, didn't kill each other, squished into Rainesfere, found a fairly warm and much drier place than a thick grove of trees, and sat down to have a meal that didn't need to be sheltered from the rain.

Not a particularly tasty meal, but it was hot and filling, and there was decent beer, and we had the place to ourselves. And that got us talking about all sorts of things, to include the upcoming holiday. But the talk got me worrying about Redcliffe and how we're gonna deal with the problems there.

"You know," Alistair said, "it might be nice celebrating Satinalia at Redcliffe. If Maggie's still there – she's one of the kitchen ladies – she makes these wonderful tarts."

"You said they have fish," Oghren growled.

"You are eating fish right now," Sten pointed out.

"This is Rainesfere fish! I want Redcliffe fish!" Oghren jabbed his fork out and sent crumbs flying. "And you still owe me sea spiders!"

"They are called crabs, mio amico. Perhaps I can arrange some for you tonight."

Leliana coughed; Wynne snickered.

"Aaaaannnnny way," Alistair continued a bit too loudly, "it'll be nice not having to sleep in the stables."

"Perhaps you should do so anyway," Morrigan said. "'Twould only im-" She jerked exactly the way she would if Neria had kicked her under the table.

Alistair gave her a dirty look but kept going. "I'm _sure_ Arl Eamon will give us a proper greeting. At least if what we've been hearing is true."

What we'd been hearing was talk about how Eamon was standing against Loghain, and how that was rallying western Ferelden against Denerim. Nothing really specific, but good news for us, and probably true since we'd been unmolested since Orzammar.

Sten spoke up again. "Will this Arl provide troops against the Blight?"

"He should. If…they're not too busy."

Sten scowled. "Your leaders waste time and resources squabbling among themselves while ignoring the true threat. It is a wonder these lands have not fallen to the Qunari."

"Yes, uhm-" Alistair looked around the table for help and picked the wrong person. "-Jeff. What do you think?"

"About what?"

"About the support Arl Eamon'll give us?"

"If he can give it to us."

"What do you mean 'if'?"

"If there's not something else going on that we're gonna have to deal with."

"Something else?"

Sten grumbled.

I shook my head and set down my spoon. "Look, every time we walk up to someone and ask for help they have some problem they want us to fix. Something we didn't even consider."

"Oh, come on. It hasn't been that bad."

"A demon infestation at the Tower. The ghosts and more demons and that ancient Warden at Soldier's Peak. Getting the shit kicked out of me in Denerim. Twice. The fucking two-month tour of the Deep Roads."

"That was not two months. It was more like a month and half again."

I just narrowed my eyes.

Alistair nodded. "Okay, I'll admit that was bad. But there hasn't been anything we haven't been able to handle."

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. "In case you don't recall I'm a Grey Warden because of that and Wynne nearly died trying to keep you alive. Or don't you remember that spear you had to have pulled out of you?"

Morrigan chimed in. "'T'was not for Jeff I would likely be a breeder of darkspawn right now," she said icily.

Neria spoke slowly and deliberately before Alistair could respond. "Don't say it."

I rubbed my eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm tired. But we're all tired." I pointed my way around the table. "Neria's tired, Wynne's tired, Oghren's- Oghren, are you tired?"

"Not really."

"Well, you're the new guy; you'll be tired soon. The point is, we're all tired-"

"I said I'm not tired-"

"See? Oghren's not tired. What about you, Sten?"

"I am not tired, but I am growing impatient. But Jeff is correct; we have encountered significant difficulties at each of our destinations. Past experience suggests the next will be no different."

Alistair bobbed his head. "Er, good point. But what could possibly be happening at Redcliffe that would be so bad?"

"Overrun with demons and darks-" I facepalmed but kept going. "No wait. That would be way too simple." I looked back up at Alistair and let my mouth take over. "How about all the birds gone insane? Giant, walking, carnivorous plants? Killer clowns? Mind controlling brain slugs? Kids with glowing eyes hanging out in the corn field? Some weird fish-monster worshipped by a cult? Oh, wait; I've got it. Dogs and cats living together."

Alistair had a 'really?' expression going. "Oh, now you're just being silly."

"Gah!" I decided draining my mug would be in order.

"Jeffrey may be right," Leliana said. "He was right about Bhelen. And Branka. It seems the Maker guides him at times." She placed a hand on Alistair's arm. "I think we would be wise to prepare for an unpleasant surprise at Redcliffe."

I gave her a nod of thanks as I refilled the mug.

"Wonderful," Neria snapped.

"Wonderful?" Alistair responded.

"Whatever problem we're going to have to deal with." Neria rubbed her face.

Alistair grinned. "Oh, I'm sure if we ask nicely, maybe make a few helpful suggestions, they'll figure out a way to solve their problem themselves."

Neria narrowed her eyes at the ex-Templar while everybody chuckled. "You know," she said, "it'd be nice if things were simple."

"Simple?"

"As in we ask someone for help and they say 'Sure. Let's go. Right now. No strings attached.' But things are never that simple, are they?"

"Life, mio capo bella, is a negotiation. One gives in order to get."

"We've given an awful lot!"

Wynne put out a placating hand. "But we've done a lot of good as well."

Oghren raised his cups. "And if half of what you've told me's true, well, good on you, missy! And the rest of you sods, too!" He drank noisily and messily.

Neria gave the dwarf a weak but genuine smile. "Thanks, Oghren."

"What did I say about getting sentimental?" Oghren went back to drinking.

"The dwarf and the baas sarebaas are correct," Sten said. "We have acquired valuable allies and secured their safety. Our personal sacrifices are irrelevant; the Blight is a dangerous enemy and must be fought with no regard for ourselves."

Neria frowned. "You sound like Duncan when you say that. But Jeff's right. I'm tired. I would have loved to just relax for a week in Orzammar-"

"A week during which the Blight would grow stronger."

Neria threw the words right back. "A week during which we could've rested and gotten stronger. Eaten. You haven't been this skinny since we got you out of that cage. Sodding king. You'd think he'd've been grateful enough to not throw us out."

"Ooh, you're grumpy ow!" Alistair gave Leliana a sour look.

Neria shot Alistair an absolutely evil look.

Oghren spoke up. "Don't worry about it, missy. That was just his way of making sure everybody knew _he's_ in charge, not the Wardens. We make him king, he tossed us out on our rumps, and now all the deshyrs see he means business."

Neria went into sulk mode. "Yeah. It doesn't mean we have to like it."

"If Branka'd stuck the crown on my head I'd've done the same thing." Oghren snorted. "Glad she didn't; I'd make a rutting awful king." He shrugged. "Bandelore'll do all right; not a bad choice." Another shrug. "I'd've picked that pretty deshyr from House Lerris, myself. She'd've been _really_ grateful."

Neria kicked at me. "You should've taken the crown when Branka offered it. At least we'd still be warm and dry in Orzammar."

My turn to shrug. "Maybe I should have; it is good to be the king."

"Nah," Oghren grunted. "No offense, shaper, but you think too much. Some assassin'd stab you and you'd try to figure out how he snuck up on you before you kicked off. And then you'd compliment him on his technique."

I raised a single finger in salute. "Fuck you."

"Now pretty boy: I thought you were gonna swallow your eyeballs when Branka offered - heh, you should've taken the crown; that'd made you a royal bastard! Heh!"

Cue a spit take from Alistair and a giggle and whisper to him from Leliana. I hid my laugh behind my mug.

"Both our capo bella and amico robusto are right. A week of relaxation was deserved, but His new Majesty must appear strong and independent. "

"No!" Alistair exclaimed then looked around wildly. "Uhm, not that; but…." He looked back at Leliana.

The bard smiled and arched an eyebrow.

Zevran leaned forward eagerly. "Leliana, have you despoiled our fair Warden? Please, give us details."

"No!" Alistair turned bright red.

"I'm disappointed. And with an attitude like that I doubt you'll be despoiled any time soon."

Oghren looked up from his plate. "'Despoiled'?"

"They're talking about-" Wynne rolled her eyes. "They're talking about rutting,"

"Ah. Well, good on both of you!"

Leliana leaned in and whispered to Alistair again. He squeaked and swallowed and nodded in defeat.

"I…have something to tell you."

"So you were despoiled?"

"No!"

Morrigan leaned forward from her shadow. "So your mind is being controlled by a slug?"

"_No!_"

"A pity; 'twould explain much." Back into the shadow.

Alistair set his jaw and looked ready to slide under the table. "I probably should have told you all this earlier, but there never seemed to be a good time."

"This doesn't have anything to do with cheese, does it?"

Alistair facepalmed. He's good at it. "Oh, if only it were that simple."

"Wynne, please," Leliana scolded.

"I'm sorry. Go ahead, Alistair."

Alistair was already halfway under the table. "You all…know the story of my parentage, right? And how Arl Eamon fostered me? Well, my father was…a noble. A high-ranking noble. Ow! A very high-ranking noble."

Alistair said something quickly; even though I was expecting it I couldn't understand it. Leliana elbowed him again.

"Ow! Fine! MyfatherisKingMaricandCailanismyhalfbrotherand…tha t's all…I guess."

Neria snorted into her drink and started coughing; I patted her back until she recovered. Wynne nodded and smiled. Morrigan pressed her lips tightly together but a thin smile escaped. Sten was unreadable. Zevran's eyes were twinkling, but he wasn't smiling that smile of his. Leliana looked serious. Cullen was gnawing on something.

Oghren was grinning as he set down a mug. "So, pretty-boy's a prince? Yeah, and I fart lyrium dust. Should've taken that crown when you had the chance."

Neria was coughing and laughing. "Oh, Alistair, that's hilarious."

Leliana came to Alistair's defense. "He is truthful in this. At least I have no reason to disbelieve him."

Sten huffed. "I do not see what-"

"He is speaking the truth."

We all turned to look at Zevran.

The elf shrugged. "The Crows are very well informed."

Alistair goggled a bit. "But…."

Zevran shrugged again. "The secret was yours, mio amico. Although it was a very poorly kept secret." He nodded at me. "I'm not the only one who knows it. Knew it?"

Eyes came around to me.

My turn to shrug. "I was very well informed, too."

Morrigan spoke from the shadows. "I suspected this to be the case. Flemeth hinted at this, and I have no reason doubt her."

"I thought I'd seen a strong resemblance, but wasn't sure until now," Wynne said quietly.

Alistair had slid down until his eyes were just above the table. "Anyone else?"

"Woof!"

* * *

><p><strong>27 Harvestmere, morning<strong>

"So you both – well, all three of you – knew – know – about me. And my father. But…how?"

Zevran looked out over the lake towards the sunrise. "As I said: the Crows are very well informed. It's likely this bit of information was discovered by fortuna. Then it was simply filed away against a future need."

My turn. "Standard briefing for a mission like this. Leadership and likely lines of succession."

Alistair looked towards the lake. "And you?"

Cullen was on his back, feet in the air, getting sun on his belly. Mabari faces hang funny when they're upside down; the dog's eyes were concealed by flaps of skin and his jowls were hanging open. "Hurf." Followed by lip-smacking.

Alistair shook his head. "And neither of you thought to mention this to me."

"Again, as I said: the secret was yours to keep. Or reveal, as the case may be. Tell me: how did our bella rosa convince you to reveal it?"

"That is none of your business." Alistair looked to me. "And you-"

I raised my hands. "Look, when I met you I wasn't thinking 'Oh my god! It's Prince Alistair!' I was thinking 'this guy can handle himself so I'd better pay attention to him if I wanna live' and 'how are we gonna get out of this mess?' And, frankly, it hasn't made a difference to me, and this the first time I've even really thought about it. As far as I'm concerned you're still the guy who stinks up the tent when he eats too much cheese."

Alistair looked a little mollified at that. "Well, plan on that happening tonight." He sighed. "But I'm not that fellow anymore, am I?"

"Too much cheese and you're sleeping with the hound. But no, mio amico, you are no longer just Alistair."

"He's right," I added. "None of us are who we were when this all started. And there's more change coming."

Alistair looked troubled. "That's what I was afraid of."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Neria plopped down next to me. "Can I be mad at Alistair?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question."

She huffed. "I feel like I should be mad at him for not telling us, but I'm not. Not really. But isn't this one of those 'get people killed' things?"

I thought about that for a bit. "Well, I guess it could be, but-" Ding. "-it explains why the bounty on him is so high. So yeah, maybe it is. But I can see why he'd want to keep that sort of thing a secret."

Neria started to say something but cut herself off. She pulled her arms in and hugged herself, but the vibe was frustrated rather than pissed.

I needed to break the silence. "And I agree with Zevran; it was Alistair's secret to tell, not ours."

"I know. But-" She suddenly stopped. "I told him about secrets that could hurt somebody else, and he still didn't tell me." A bit of evil crept into her voice. "So now I am mad at him."

Aw, crap. "Uh…."

"Oh, don't worry; I'm not too mad. But I think Leliana and I are going to have some fun with him."

* * *

><p><strong>28 Harvestmere, noon<strong>

We're still making good time. Neria's decided we're going to push through to Redcliffe tonight. The weather finally broke and the sun's out, so at least we've got that going for us. But we probably won't get there until late this evening, but if things are as I expect we'll show up just in time to be big damn heroes. True, we'd rather not walk into the situation in the dark, but the bad guys won't know we're coming, either.

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

"Sers, might we be of service?"

There's a work crew rebuilding a bridge, culvert, and spillway. A dozen or so laborers were working with stones the size of footballs and some sort of mortar. There's some clever engineering going on, especially given the tools they have to work with, but primitive doesn't equal unsophisticated. Anyway….

The foreman took us in, doffed a hunk of cloth pretending to be a cap, stared suspiciously at Sten, worriedly at the mages, hostilely at Zevran, curiously at Oghren, and finally decided to address me.

I ran with it. "Just wondering if you have any news from Redcliffe."

The foreman slapped the cap back on his head. "Well, the Arl, Maker bless him, he's sick. Good catch on fish, harvest was only fair what with the darkspawn. There were twins born to the Fisher girl – not the castle view Fisher, but-"

"The arl," Alistair interjected. "How sick is he?"

The man needed a few seconds of thought. "Must be fairly bad. I haven't heard of anyone seeing him for, oh, at least a month now."

"But Redcliffe," I started, "how are things there?"

A shrug. "Things are fine, ser. At least they were yesterday morn. That's when we headed out."

I tried to fit that bit of info into what I had but it didn't make sense.

"Ser?"

"Thank you."

"Anytime, ser."

We got some distance from the workmen and huddled up.

Neria gave me a once over. "Jeff, are you sure about this?"

"Arl Eamon's out of touch, and Bann Teagan's in Redcliffe; from what Zevran found out he's been there for over a month, and nobody expects him back anytime soon, and nobody's heard from him in at least a week. That tells me there's a problem. And you told me to tell you when I think something bad's coming up."

Neria drooped. "And I was hoping we could just walk in."

"At least we're not going in blind."

"Then we keep going."

So we hit road with me lost in thought. I was still trying to reconcile everything I know and just found out when Leliana snuck up on me.

"I have told Neria the Maker blessed you with the occasional vision. And she believes in you, so we will press on. It will be a long evening on the road, but if things are as you fear, our presence will be needed soon."

"Yeah, well…. I don't know. I'm just not too sure right now. About Redcliffe."

Red patted me gently on the shoulder. "Do not doubt yourself. We are needed in Redcliffe, and your warning will keep us safe." She gave me a warm smile.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p><strong>Very late evening<strong>

Redcliffe Castle is an extraordinary edifice encamped on an exceptional escarpment. At least from what we can see of it in the dim moonlight. But there's nothing going on with it that seems out of the ordinary; certainly no tears in the Veil like I was expecting to see.

And Redcliffe. We approached the town warily and went weapons free when we could start making out buildings. But it was quiet. Too quiet, I thought, but the silence was natural. There were a few people about, but nightlife here is pretty much restricted to watchmen, thieves, and emergencies. We only had to deal with the first two.

Everything looked normal, sounded normal, and most importantly, felt normal.

"I…don't…understand," I said slowly while staring at an untouched meal.

"You going to eat that?" Alistair reached for some bread and cheese on my plate. He snatched his hand back when Leliana slapped at it.

The barkeep put a couple of pitchers on the table. "Last round, sers," he said, and then yawned for emphasis.

I waved at him. "Are you sure-"

"If you'll pardon me, ser, I've said there's naught amiss that I know of. Aside from the Arl, Maker bless him. Now if you'll pardon me…."

"Jeff," Wynne said, "relax."

"Yeah, shaper. Beer's good; enjoy it. We'll go find something to kill when we've got light again."

I looked around for a supporting face and got Sten.

"Perhaps this destination is simply different. While we have faced an inordinate amount of trouble, I will admit that I was not looking forward to more conflict." He turned to look at Neria. "I am, however, anticipating recovering my sword."

"First thing in the morning, Sten. Now get some sleep."

"Very well."

"And you, too, Jeff. "

I tried, but I didn't get much.

* * *

><p><strong>29 Harvestmere, morning<strong>

The morning dawned cold, bright, and quiet. I was (and am) running on short sleep but when I heard everybody start moving I was up and running on adrenaline. That wore off fairly quick, so I stepped outside and let the fresh air wake me up.

"Bongiorno, mio amico." The elf was dressed only in pants and boots, and was steaming like he'd just finished a run. "A bracing morning, no?"

I just grumbled and popped my knees.

Zevran grinned. "You shouldn't be so unhappy. Look about you; there's nothing wrong. Celebrate a quiet morning. Like those two."

Alistair and Leliana were just standing and watching the sunrise and/or the town. No canoodling, but they did have arms around each other's waists.

"It does my poor, tired heart wonders to see that," Zevran added.

"Mine, too, I guess, but I hope she ends up being more than just a rebound romance."

"Re- Ah, I see." A fatalistic shrug. "Perhaps, or perhaps not. But at least he's willing to try again. I wish him luck."

"I do, too."

"And you, mio amico? Do you still choose to remain celibe?"

"Yeah."

Zevran sighed theatrically. "You of all people should understand the importance of grasping life while one has the opportunity."

"Right now I'm not even sure I wanna seize the day, much less one of the ladies."

The grin returned. "Who says it has to be one of our ladies? Ah, well. Should your resolve waver let me know and I will arrange a suitable seizing."

I decided to take the offer the way it was intended. "Thanks, Zevran. I mean it."

"You are welcome. Now come: let us break our fast."

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

Alistair looked a lot frustrated. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Zevran and Leliana exchanged questioning glances and shrugged in unison.

"Jeff?"

"We ought to at least try it."

"Wynne?"

"I think it's our best chance. Unless you want Zevran to try-"

"Never mind."

We'd been rebuffed once in our attempt to enter Redcliffe Castle; the guards just took a look at the scruffy fivesome walking up to the gates and turned us away without even listening to us. Zevran offered to sneak in but we decided that wouldn't endear us to anybody. Especially the armed guards carrying multiple implements of destruction.

So we'd walked a couple hundred yards back up the road, huddled up, and discussed the problem. The solution seemed pretty obvious, and it had the advantage of being simple. We walked back to the castle gate to present the guards with a new argument.

They weren't really in the mood to listen. "I thought we told you lot to bugger off."

The speaker was backed up by a dozen men who looked well acquainted with violence. A few of those had bows strung and nocked, but nobody was jumpy or on edge.

Except for me. I was at the front of the group. But I had to give my line. "You did. But we wanted to ask you one more time." I held up a hand. "We just need to get a message to the Arl."

"Just-" The guard sergeant's eyes popped out. "Is that-?"

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is." I was holding a silver ingot the size of my thumb. Another souvenir from the Deep Roads.

"A message for the Arl, you said?"

* * *

><p>"Alistair! Is that really you?" Bann Teagan is a tall, slender man with auburn hair, tired blue eyes, and a really cool evil twin style beard. "It's been, well, far too long."<p>

Alistair smiled but I'm not sure he meant it. "I suppose it has."

"Please, come in. All of you. Sit. Bring us cider." That last was to the servant who'd escorted us in.

We tromped into the Arl's study looking completely out of place in our grungy outfits. It's a nice little place with carpets and comfortable chairs and an overflowing desk. Teagan stood in front of the desk and let Alistair make introductions and made some small talk until the servant gave us each a mug of warm spiced cider. He took his cup and sat down behind the desk and pushed some papers aside.

"So," Teagan said as he took us in, "I take it you're here looking for some kind of help?"

Alistair nodded. "Well, yes. I…don't know if you've heard much…."

"Loghain said you'd – all the Grey Wardens - died at Ostagar. Last I heard he's still telling that tale, but most people know better." Teagan laughed harshly. "A lot of us heard what you did after Ostagar. At least up until when you disappeared in Orzammar. But you can save that story for later."

"We probably should; it's a long one."

"I'm sure it is." Teagan sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Loghain's also spreading word that you – the Wardens – caused Cailan's death, but most folk don't believe that, either. Oh, and he's furious about your trip to Denerim. Nice tweak of his nose there."

"Well, that wasn't all-"

"Save that story also." Teagan rubbed his eyes again. "Maker's breath. We've got so much to talk about, but I guess I need to tell you the most important thing first. And what I have to say doesn't leave this room. Agreed?"

We did.

"Eamon's done a lot to rally the Bannorn against Loghain; Loghain took that a bit personally. So he arranged to have Eamon poisoned."

"An assassin?" Zevran asked.

Teagan took another look at Zevran. A very careful look. "Not an Antivan, at least as far as we know."

"But what about Eamon?" Alistair sounded a bit desperate.

"I'm sorry, Alistair. He died over a week ago."

* * *

><p><em>AN: told you to wait a day! Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and the quick update, but now I'm back to schedule slip mode. I make no promises, implied or otherwise, regarding the timing for the next update._

**Macman6453:** _ and now things have gone even more AU. We'll explore it a bit more next chapter._

**Mayhem296:** _thanks!_

**GlysMari:** _I really enjoy writing Oghren, but I need to be careful not to turn this into 'DA: Oghren.' Sten's certainly getting used to being in Ferelden, but the Qunari will probably have a long, intensive debrief waiting for him._ [MINOR SPOILER]_ Bioware canon seems to indicate Sten will actually be reeducated back into the Qun._

**Riptide Monzarc:** _not sure what you mean by OGB. 'Old God Birth'? But that's down the road._

**Dur'id the Druid:** [PROBABLY NOT EVEN A SPOILER] _don't worry; guns will show up._

**AD Lewis:** _ I'll be starting that next chapter._

**InsidiousAgent:** _I've read bits of 'All Roads' but it didn't work for me at the time. I'll have to give it another shot. Jeff's military training (specifically, Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape, or SERE) is what's keeping him on track; he's just focusing on maintaining his self. He's probably at the point where he's just not sure about sanity, but has stopped really caring and is just dealing with the madness as it comes._

**Pegueng:** _glad to see you're still around! Thanks for hanging in there! I think it's been closer to a year and a half, but I don't see this finishing up for at least a few months, so by the end it will have been a two-year project._

**APatchOfSunlight:** _Thanks for reading and reviewing. And speaking of reviews: you made an excellent point! Vocabulary exchange is something I completely overlooked while writing the dialogue. But don't expect a sudden change; I think that would be jarring, but now that the idea is in my head it'll get considered._


	84. Resolutions, Part II

**29 Harvestmere, evening**

Jeff needs food badly. Seriously, this damn Warden appetite is a serious pain in the ass. I can eat a full meal and still feel like I could use a snack. Neria, Alistair, and I could probably kick ass as a buffet team. Throw Sten into that and it's a wonder we're able to pay for the food we're throwing down. Anyway….

Alistair's pretty shaken up about Eamon. I'm just confused. I'm assuming it was Jowan that poisoned him, but Teagan didn't say anything else about the killer. And then, of course, no zombies running around. Don't know why, although if I remember right it was Connor's demon that created them. So that hasn't happened, either. Probably. Anyway….

Teagan offered the hospitality of Redcliffe Castle, so Zevran and I headed back to the tavern to retrieve the others, Bill, and our gear. We got things loaded up then sat down to wait, Zevran got impatient and I got hungry. So I got some food and was writing when Morrigan walked in.

She had a dangerous smile and a cockier-than-usual strut. She strolled up to my table and eased into a chair then examined the cups on the table. Mine seemed to satisfy her so she emptied it.

I waited for her to finish drinking. "Are you going to tell me or do I need to ask?"

"Templars are fools."

Arg.

"You need not worry; all are safe, although Neria is quite angry at the moment." Morrigan's smile twitched. "Most likely with the Templars. They will be here shortly. Neria and the others, not the Templars."

"Do I even want to know?"

"You know that I am apostate, and how the Templars feel about that. We were predictably accosted, and my regard for Templars is unchanged." Morrigan suddenly laughed. "And I am now a Grey Warden recruit. Neria saw fit to invoke the Right of Conscription." The smile dropped. "And no, I will not be partaking of the Joining potion. Not unless circumstances are dire." She waved at the bartender for a refill.

I motioned to make it two.

A few minutes later we made it six. I felt the tingling tug in my head that meant Neria was getting close. The door crashed open and Neria stomped in followed by Oghren, Sten, and Cullen. Neria threw herself into a chair; Morrigan was right about her being pissed.

Oghren was chuckling. "Shaper! You won't believe ow!" He rubbed his head where Neria's blade clocked him. He went back to laughing.

But it was Sten I was interested in. "Are you…smiling?" I asked.

Sten's facial expression was peaceful. (Well, peaceful for him.) No tightness around his mouth, no narrowing of the eyes, no flaring of the nostrils. His body language read alert but relaxed. He nodded to me. "I have recovered Asala." He practically cradled the weapon as he spoke.

"And it was a real letdown," Oghren said. "We didn't even have to fight the sods who had it."

"We compensated the dwarf."

"I think we overcompensated the skygazer."

"It wasn't much," Neria said. She sounded pissed, too. "But better that than a fight." She grabbed a mug and drank deep.

"I admit I was hesitant to pay the dwarf, but I saw that he recognized Asala's value. It has been well-cared for."

I nodded at the sword Sten had been using. "I'm surprised you didn't trade that for…Asala." I almost said 'it', but managed not to insult the giant.

Sten glanced at the scabbarded weapon. "It has served me well, and I do not wish to relinquish it. But this-" He caressed Asala; the action was a little creepy. "-was made for my hand."

"Heh, I've got something made for my ow! Knock it off, missy!"

"Oh, I will."

I tried to give Neria a sympathetic look. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you later."

"I'll tell you now. Missy's got a wicked OW!" Despite the pain Oghren was still snickering.

"Cullen, he says another word bite his stones off."

Oghren just laughed again.

* * *

><p>We finished the round, threw our gear into the cart, and headed back to Redcliffe Castle. Zevran and Morrigan had conducted a quick recon. We felt safe enough, so we backbriefed each other as we moved.<p>

Info dump time.

Arl Eamon's been the most outspoken voice against Loghain. He's rallied the support of most of the minor nobles; there's a small, but clear, majority in favor of deposing Loghain. But there's both military and political pressure in support of keeping Loghain in place (at least until the Blight's dealt with) so overall that bloc is a bit shaky.

Hence the deception. Eamon died over a week ago. His family held a private funeral; so private that only the family and a handful of trusted insiders know he's dead. The plan is to have the Arl hang on valiantly until the Satinalia celebrations are over then announce he died after one last Maker-blessed holiday with his family. Then they'll reveal, try, and execute the heartless assassin and use him and Eamon's tragic death to rally more support against the treacherous Loghain, or at least hold together the freedom-loving and practical-minded alliance.

Morrigan seemed impressed. "A cunning plan designed to tug at the heartstrings."

Zevran nodded his agreement. "My thoughts exactly."

Leliana liked it, too, but didn't say so in front of Alistair.

"That's…a…horrible way to use him," Neria said. Not sure if she was talking about Eamon or the killer. But she just shook her head and kept walking.

"That's politics," Oghren muttered. "Sounds like something straight outta Orzammar."

Sten rumbled quietly and kept reaching for Asala's hilt but stopping before his hand got there.

"But what about Alistair?" Neria asked. "Did Teagan say anything about Alistair and his…ancestry?"

I shook my head. "No. Nothing at all. But Alistair was pretty shook up; Teagan didn't tell him much after telling him about Eamon. And he didn't mention it when he was talking to me and Zevran and Wynne. But I'd be surprised if he didn't know."

"Oh, I am positive he knows," Zevran said as he steered clear of a man taking too much interest in us. We returned the interest and the fellow disappeared into an alley. "I would say Alistair's arrival is the first good news he's had in days."

* * *

><p><strong>30 Harvestmere, morning<strong>

[welcoming hiss]

"Yeah, come on," I answered resignedly as the rifle popped into my hands. "Let's see how she's gonna fuck with me tonight."

Thing and I walked down the road, suddenly ended up on a bridge, and followed the road to Redcliffe Castle. Or at least my dream version of it. The grayish-white stone was set against a featureless sky, but what was suddenly unusual were the waypoints I could see. I stopped, waved off Thing's interrogative, and looked around. Five close by in the keep, and three across the lake in the town.

"Interesting."

That hadn't happened in a long time. At least since before we went into Orzammar. I did a three-sixty, but even though nothing seemed out of place I was suddenly paranoid. I had the feeling Amy had a very unpleasant surprise in store for me, but at least I knew I was walking into a trap.

So I locked and loaded and headed in. Through a gate, up some stairs, and I pulled open the heavy doors. No surprises there; everything looked like a simple, grainy version of the foyer I'd walked into before. No Amy, no other demons, just three mage markers dead ahead, another below me, and a last, flickering one moving about.

And no surprises when I entered the sitting room, unless you count Neria, Wynne, and Morrigan, all looking as comfortable as they could in a dream.

"Just me!" I called.

[hiss]

The ladies stood as I walked in. Neria and Wynne watched Thing suspiciously.

Morrigan inclined her head. "We meet again, ser Thing."

[hiss]

Neria flinched but didn't move from her chair. "Haven't you figured out what he says yet?"

"Not yet. I've been trying, but no luck."

"And the demon?"

Shrug. "Don't know. First time I haven't seen her in forever."

Wynne was standing and flipping through a blank-paged book. "Are there any other dangers?"

"Don't think so. But I think there's another mage there-" I pointed down at an angle. "-and there's another running around that way." I pointed to my eight.

"Two mages?" Pretty sure Wynne didn't believe me but she still looked around.

"And I think there's a few more in town. But, yeah; two right now."

Neria stood up. "I'm thinking we should go find them."

I was still tracking the weak but close signal. "I think they're about to find us. One of them, at least. And here he is."

Connor walked into the room. He's a skinny little red-haired kid who looks like Teagan's Mini-me. He was looking around like he wasn't quite sure where he was at, but instantly zeroed in on me with big, nervous, but curious eyes.

I returned the boy's stare with a curious one of my own. I'd seen the kid in passing while awake, but now he had a ghostly look about him. Connor looked kinda like Niall when he was fading away. Solid, but fuzzy – very fuzzy – around the edges, as if he wasn't in focus. The fuzziness shifted as Connor moved; it gave him a ghostly appearance.

But I gave him a smile and said, "H-"

"This is interesting." Morrigan strolled up behind me.

Connor kept staring at me.

"-ello," I finished and frowned at the witch.

She ignored me, of course. "The Arl's son appears to be a mage."

"Who?" Neria asked.

"Hello, ser," Connor answered at the same time. "You're one of uncle's guests."

"I am."

"Child," Wynne asked quietly, "are you a mage?"

Connor's attention stayed on me. "But why are you in the Fade? Are you a…mage?"

"Who are you talking to?" Neria asked.

"Oh, dear," Wynne said.

"No. At least I don't think so." I nodded at Wynne. "But

she does, though."

Morrigan snickered.

Connor looked around. "Who does?"

Neria piped up again. "Who does what?"

I nodded at Wynne again. "She thinks I'm a mage."

Connor looked around, obviously confused. "Who?"

I pointed. Deliberately. "Her."

"Ser, there's no one else here."

Neria huffed. "Is someone else here?"

Morrigan figured it out. She waved a hand across the boy's face. "He can neither see nor hear me. Or anyone else but you, it seems."

"Ser, are you well?"

"I'm well, but, do you see anyone else?"

"No one."

"Who are you talking to?" Neria sounded ready to blow something up.

"Neria," Morrigan said sharply, "the Arl's son is standing directly before us." She sighed theatrically. "Have you still not attuned yourself to the Fade?"

"Child," Wynne said as she knelt down, "can you see or hear me?"

Connor's attention stayed on me. His confusion was being replaced by nervousness. "Ser, I was warned about demons. Are you-" He suddenly shut himself up.

"No," I said firmly with a friendly smile. "I'm not a demon, and there aren't any around. At least any that I know of right now."

"Then who are you talking to?"

"Did you see the others I'm here with? The women – except for the archer – they're all mages."

"The granddam, and the girl, and the…?" Connor waved his hands in an attempt to describe the indescribable. "She's…pretty."

I felt Morrigan's eyebrow go up.

But I agreed with the boy. "Yes. Yes, she is."

"But why can't I see her? Or the others?"

"That I'm not sure about."

"He hasn't yet been Harrowed," Wynne said.

"The child is not fully attuned to the Fade." Morrigan sounded amused and thoughtful. "And yet to you he is but another mage." I could hear the word 'interesting' being left unsaid.

"Are you listening to the others again?"

"I am, but-"

"Jeff," Neria interrupted, "who's this other mage?"

"I'd like to know that as well," Wynne added.

So I asked Connor.

The boy suddenly looked guilty. "There's…no…other mages…here, ser."

I relayed the answer, but pointed down again. "Down that way somewhere."

Now Connor looked very guilty. "Ser…." He sounded desperate.

"I know. You're not supposed to say anything about mages to anybody. But you're here, with us, so we know you're a mage." I tried to smile reassuringly. "Your secret's safe with us."

Wynne leaned in and whispered. "We can't promise that."

"We'll talk about this later," I whispered back.

"So you know about Master Bentley?"

I let the name throw me for a second then shook off the confusion. "I know he's nearby."

Now Connor looked confused. "He is? I haven't met with him since before…." The confusion changed to sadness.

Wynne spoke up again. "I think we need to go find Master Bentley."

* * *

><p>"Hello?" The man's voice echoed up the dungeon hallway. "Is someone there?"<p>

"That's Master Bentley."

"Who's there?" The voice was nervous and weak.

"That voice…," Neria said. She hustled ahead and looked into the cell. "You-!"

There was a silent, pressureless, lightless _pop_ as Neria disappeared from the Fade. There was another one as the owner of the unseen voice followed her. As a group we walked up and peered into the empty cell.

"What just happened?" Wynne asked.

"They awoke," Morrigan answered.

"I know _that_. But why?"

"Jeff!" Neria's voice rang out in my ears. "Wake up!"

"My turn," I said. My shoulders were being squeezed and there was a young, ticked off Warden in my face.

"Your turn for what?"

* * *

><p>"I don't see why you just couldn't've put him to sleep. And can you turn that down?"<p>

We'd intimidated the poor kid stuck with overnight guard duty into letting us into the dungeon. I gave him some sergeantly advice and sent him off to find help. Hoping he didn't get into too much trouble, but a pissed off mage and an old grouchy warrior were way above his level.

"Sod off." Neria's staff was glowing with a migraine-inducing intensity. And she meant the words.

"Who's there?" The same voice from the Fade dream.

"Maker!" Just like in the dream Neria hustled ahead. Unlike the dream the place was dank, smelly, and dark. And unlike the dream Neria didn't go anywhere when she saw the prisoner. "You….," she snarled.

"Maker's breath! Neria, is that really you?"

"Bastard!" Neria actually drew her staff back and the color it was glowing changed to red.

The effect was hellish, but I jumped forward and pushed the staff up and wrestled Neria away from the bars.

"Don't hurt her!" I could hear the threat in the words.

"Let. Me. Go." Neria actually snarled the words.

"Not until you calm down."

Neria and I held each other's eyes. Hers were angry. Insanely angry. I hoped mine were calming. But Neria suddenly broke the stare and shouted, "No!"

A linebacker blindsided me and the world spun and suddenly the fellow in the cell was standing in front of me.

"Leave her alone," he said. His voice echoed gravely.

For a little while I'd thought Master Bentley was a third party, but given Neria's reaction…. "Jowan, I presume?" While he was gaping at me I stepped forward and punched him.

There was another rush and I found myself trying to hold on to Neria and listening to groaning from the cell. I looked back; he was lying on the cell floor, blood dripping from his hand, and shaking his head like I'd just punched him. "Neria! Is this that Jowan fellow you told me about?"

That broke through her anger. She shoved her staff at me, but her heart wasn't in it. I caught the shaft and we locked eyes, and then the frustration, and the anger, and the pain came out.

"Come on," I whispered underneath her sobs, "let's get outta here."

* * *

><p>We found a bottle and a quiet spot to share it. Neria needed a couple of drinks before she went from crying to angry, a couple more to get to bitter, and a couple more after that to reach melancholy. And then she started talking. Not about anything in particular, but eventually (that is, after another drink) Neria told me about Jowan, and how she'd trusted him, and how he'd used her to escape the Tower, and how Jowan had looked out for her when she arrived at the Tower, and how she and Jowan and an elf girl named Solona got into trouble all the time.<p>

"Solona?"

"Thass right," Neria slurred at me. "Solona. My sister. My little tiny sister. Sort of. Cuz she was an elf and we weren't really sisters. But we got to be sisters when the Templar carried us." She suddenly got a dreamy look. "He was nice. Like Alistair."

I was just barely feeling the booze but that slowed down my brain. "Okay, but I thought you-"

Neria snapped back to the present. "Thass my Chantry name." She sat up straight. "Solona Amell. Thass whass I have to call myself when the fucking bastards ask."

"So who's Neria? Ow!"

Neria sat back and looked satisfied at the Gibbs' slap she'd landed. "I'm Neria!"

"Okay. I am officially confused."

"I am Neria. But Neria is Solona. And if the fucking bastards ask we have to use our Chantry names."

I raised my hand in enigmatic gesture and spoke slowly. "So you swapped names?"

"Yesss!" Neria grabbed my arm and hugged it. "You're smart! Her name was sooooo pretty and mine was so plain and she thought mine was pretty so we played a stupid game and traded names. Stupid game and traded names." She pulled my arm in even tighter. "And we were sisters and I didn't get to say goodbye and we couldn't find her." Neria hiccupped a couple of times before I realized she was trying to cry again.

"I don't understand. 'Couldn't find her'?"

Neria coughed weakly but held on to my arm. "At the Tower."

"I see." I suddenly, really did. "I'm sorry."

"I know." She patted my hand as she stood up. "You're nice. Will you go kill Jowan for me? He's my brother so I can't, but I want to."

I shook my head. "Not now. I think you need to talk to him." I used my captive arm to pull Neria back down. "Maybe tomorrow. When you're sober."

Neria filtered that thought and smiled weakly. "Okay. And then will you kill him?"

"Maybe tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

"A blood mage? A blood mage?" Teagan looked like he was ready to have a stroke.

Wynne leaned forward. "I have it on good authority he forced his way out of the Tower despite the Templars' best efforts."

Morrigan snorted at that.

"He is no blood mage!" Isolde snapped.

"He is. And he's a fugitive from the Chantry."

"This…explains…much," Teagan said.

"But Connor has not-"

"I will be examining Connor." Wynne's tone left no room for argument. "And then he-"

"No!" Isolde practically shouted.

"-and Jowan will be turned over to the Chantry."

Isolde looked at her brother-in-law. "Teagan! No!"

Teagan shook his head. "Connor is a mage, and is subject to Chantry law. Had I known earlier…," More head shaking and a raised hand. "We will discuss this later. Privately."

Isolde shut her mouth for the moment, but that conversation obviously wasn't over.

Teagan kept shaking his head. "And Jowan: if he is a blood mage why didn't he use his…magic to kill Eamon? And why hasn't he escaped? Or even tried to escape?" He sighed. "We will turn him over to the Chantry, but not until he confesses to his crime."

"No," I interrupted. "You need to hang on to him. If you're able to call a Landsmeet trot him out and have him call out Loghain in person. That'll get folks on your side. Our side."

"But he's a blood mage. How will we keep him?"

"You already are. If you think he couldn't have walked out of here by now if he wanted to then you're fooling yourself. And he's given you and Wynne and Neria his parole." I took a deep breath. "Now, if you'll excuse me…." I left the room with shaking legs and a bad taste in my mouth.

Leliana followed me out. "That was a masterful idea." She examined me closely. "But it troubles you."

"Yeah. A mage killing a noble? The Chantry'll tear Jowan apart. If the Landsmeet doesn't do it first. At least he'll get us some support."

"And Loghain's position will be weakened." She gave me a short bow. "Well played."

I grimaced back and turned to go.

"Jeffrey."

"Yeah?"

"Hold on to that bit of yourself."

"I'm trying."

* * *

><p><strong>Satinalia<strong>

"Don't know about the rest of you but I'm happy as long as there's good drink. Although I wouldn't mind some more fish."

"I believe," Teagan answered, "our main course will be roast of beef."

Oghren looked skeptical. "Beef? Wait, don't you mean cow? Those bronto-looking things? Why you call it beef then?"

"Er, uh-"

Teagan was saved from further small talk when the ladies walked into the gathering. Isolde looked fairly unhappy. Neria looked grouchy. Leliana looked cheerful. Morrigan was uncomfortable. Wynne was alert.

But they all looked great. Wynne had somehow cleaned her robes (or kept a secret set in reserve) and was every inch a senior mage. She carried herself with understated dignity even as whispers about her presence shot through the local VIPs Teagan had invited. That included the local Revered Mother, but more on that later.

Isolde was unhappy because the other three ladies were borrowing her clothes for the feast. Leliana was the only one close to her in size, but Red had worked wonders with Neria's and Morrigan's outfits. All three – make that four – five if you include Isolde – looked pretty damn good.

Unfortunately Neria looked stoic rather than – well, happy would be asking way too much. She's been keeping to herself, but she and Wynne had at least one long talk with Jowan. I guess it went okay because he's still alive. And she hasn't asked me to kill him again.

Alistair leaned into me and Zevran.

Oh, yeah, Zevran. Apparently having an elf attend the feast is a major scandal, but, as a group, we'd threatened to boycott the dinner if he wasn't invited. Isolde had been fine with that, but Teagan spoke to her privately and at least made her see reason. And he sent an invitation to the headman of the local alienage, so there's three elves here for dinner. Scandalous, I'm sure, but anyway….

"Half a sovereign says she trips over that gown and ends up on the floor," Alistair whispered with a slight motion toward Morrigan. There was still an undercurrent of grief to his voice.

"I'm not taking that," I whispered back.

"A full sovereign says she won't," Zevran replied.

"You're on."

During that little exchange Teagan swooped in and greeted the ladies. Nobody changed their expression except Neria; she put on a forced smile and clenched her fist as if she were wishing she had her staff. But she exchanged some pleasantries with Teagan and allowed him to take her arm. Thinking back I had a little surge of jealousy go through me at the sight, but got over it real quick because of Alistair.

"Go, mio amico. Greet your bella."

"Er…."

"Go on, dude. And tell her she looks nice." I was about to shove him forward, but added a last bit of advice. "Compliment her shoes."

"'Compliment her shoes'? But I can't even see them!"

I shoved Alistair towards the ladies. "Just do it!"

We stood back and let Alistair bumble his way into a conversation with Leliana. Morrigan stood there alone and looking sour; one brave soul I hadn't been introduced to started towards her. The expression turned glacial and the fellow's bravery was replaced by prudence.

"And that, mio amico, is your cue." Zevran gave me a gentle bump and slipped away before I could respond.

Oh, well. I made my way over to the cool woman in a long red dress. "I have to say you look good."

The glacial expression could have spawned an ice age. "Do not seek to flatter me."

Head shake. "No flattery. You look good. Really."

She gave me a close examination with those golden eyes before finally relaxing. "My thanks, then. And you look…good as well."

I'd borrowed a simple, brown tunic and was wearing that over my cleaned, taken-in, and not-too-faded jeans. Not the fanciest dress, but certainly adequate and comfortable. "Thanks."

Morrigan flicked her eyes across the room. "So what are we to do now?"

I hoisted my cup. "Have a drink or three and socialize until dinner's ready. Unless you'd rather go annoy the Templars." I'd been keeping an eye on the pair ever since they'd come in with the Mother.

"I had considered such, but decided discretion was a better choice for the evening." The eyes narrowed. "Yes, I can choose to be so."

I filed away a smartass retort for later use. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink. Then we can go annoy the Templars together."

A thin smirk escaped. "I believe the drinks are free."

"Figure of speech. Come on."

Morrigan considered the idea for a moment then finally nodded. "Very well." She took a step, stumbled, and started to fall.

I managed to catch the witch and not spill my drink. "You okay?"

"I am well." Morrigan's face matched her dress. She started kicking her legs and was suddenly an inch or two shorter. "Blasted shoes."

An amused voice piped up from behind me. "Well caught, mio amico."

* * *

><p>Neria's voice rang out through the room. "No! Absolutely not!"<p>

"Mage, you will-"

"Not here. Nowhere. Not even if-"

"Mage…," the Templar trailed off warningly as he raised a fist.

Neria stared back defiantly. Both Templars had at least six inches and seventy-five pounds on her, and she wasn't carrying her staff, but her hackles were up and she was clearly not backing down.

I'd seen the Templars corner Wynne earlier. I watched her show them her paperwork and her forearm and the Chantry goons seemed satisfied with that. Neria'd been ducking them, though, and dinner had finally been called, so I thought we'd dodged that bullet, but the pair ambushed her on the way to the dining room.

The Templars were wearing their equivalent of dress blues: nice tunics and trousers, no obvious armor, but they both had their swords. And they both had a hand on their hilts, and both looked ready to start smiting.

"Cover me," I snapped at Morrigan.

"Gladly." The ice was back.

I started a fast walk across the room. I got about halfway there before the Templars noticed me.

"Ser, this is none of your-"

The Templars were bigger than me, but not by much, and they certainly weren't expecting a random bystander to get involved in a routine mage check. I didn't run into the guy, but I caught his wrist and used my momentum to shove him away from Neria and bull-rushed him into the wall. I twisted his arm and kicked his legs and grabbed his collar; the guy was off balance and surprised and actually looking a bit freaked out. He was wearing some sort of light mail under his tunic but that wasn't going to help him. And his partner couldn't cover him; Neria and Morrigan would blast that guy the instant he turned on me.

I shot a quick look at the other Templar then gave my captive a death glare. "I'll say this once: don't…fuck…with…my mages."

The Templar recovered. A little bit. "This is Chantry business-"

Teagan's got a good NCO voice. "Enough! All of you!"

I didn't look back.

"Warden! Restrain your man! Mother! Restrain your Templars!"

I didn't take my hands off the Templar. "Neria?"

"Let him go," she said with restrained fury.

"You gonna behave?" I asked.

I got a nod.

"Release him!" Teagan demanded.

I let the Templar go and raised and opened my hands. He recovered his balance and eased off the wall then threw a hidden elbow at me. I waxed off and shoved him back into the wall. "Careful; you wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

"Enough!"

* * *

><p>There was a last minute rearranging of the seating for obvious reasons, but somehow I ended up just a couple of places down from the Revered Mother. Hannah's her name, and although she seems sympathetic to Isolde's and Teagan's plight, she's kind of a biddy.<p>

Hannah gave me a sour look across the plate of the unfortunate fellow sitting between us. "You shouldn't take it upon yourself to meddle in Chantry business."

I locked eyes with her and answered around a mouthful of overcooked roast beast. "It's my business when the Chantry's messing with the Wardens."

"The Chantry has authority over mages; if the Wardens have an issue with that they can stop employing mages." Her eyes flicked down the table towards Morrigan. "Especially apostate mages. At least the Senior Enchanter understands the protocols."

"Pardon, ser, but could you pass the salt cellar? Thank you."

"No problem." I reached and slid it down as I responded to the Mother. "The protocols were about to mean jack sh-. About to mean nothing. Your boys were messing with a Warden mage and I know she's not up for it right now."

That earned a collective 'huh?' from everybody listening, including Hannah. Heads turned down the table to take in Neria and Alistair and probably Leliana.

"What?"

"She's the Warden?"

"I thought the Orlesian…."

Mother Hannah's eyes locked back on mine. "That…slip of a girl is _the_ Warden?" Her head swiveled back and forth. "But how…?"

I nodded solemnly as I dug into some stewed carrots and onions. (They're tastier than they sound.) "That slip of a girl _is_ the Warden. And she's got a good team behind her. And I'll say it again: your Templars are lucky they're not greasy stains on the floor; we've all been through too much to take-" I bobbed my head and shut my mouth.

"If a mage attacks a Templar-"

The curious fellow between us spoke up again. "What if a Warden attacks a Templar? Pass that bread platter down."

"If _anyone_ attacks a Templar that person is subject to Chantry law."

"Thank you. But Mother, aren't Grey Wardens-"

I interrupted the interruption. "Grey Wardens are beyond Chantry law during a Blight." I'd learned at least that much from the library in Orzammar. "Including mage Wardens. And whoever they employ, apostates or not." I suddenly decided to make a dramatic gesture. I dug my glasses out and put them on. It felt weird having them on in front of strangers and seeing everything in focus, but I made my point.

The Mother stared quizzically at me for a moment then realization dawned. "You're a wanted-"

"I am. But Neria conscripted me, and Templar Commander Greagoir recognized the Warden's claim on me."

Narrowed eyes. "I will have to write him concerning this. Until then-"

"Until then you'll do nothing. To me, to Neria, to any of us. Listen, I know the Chantry likes to control the mages, but it also likes to overstep its bounds. At least the Templars do. It won't be long before they'll go too far and people'll start to push back. Starting with us." I shoved a hunk of buttered bread into my mouth.

The eyes narrowed even further. "Are you threatening me?"

I spoke very clearly around the bread. "I don't make threats. I give warnings."

* * *

><p><strong>1 Firstfall, noon<strong>

_Let it be known that Eamon Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe, succumbed to illness and died on Satinalia eve. He is survived by Isolde Guerrin, Arlessa of Redcliffe, and Connor Guerrin, his only child_.

"So it's really real now," Alistair said.

"Yeah, but I guess doing it this way is a good idea," I answered. The thing that really bothers me is that it doesn't bother me as much as it should.

We had a beautiful view of the lake and the preparations for the fire boat ceremony that was coming up this evening. Alistair watched the purposeful scurrying without much interest. "You know, Eamon was the closest thing I had to a father, at least until Duncan. And the last time I saw him I told him I hated him and never wanted to see him again. And I didn't."

I kept watching the lake and the town. Not for anything in particular; just not quite enjoying the view.

Alistair kept speaking, this time with an edge. "Leliana said I shouldn't feel guilty about that. She said he was sending me away to be something I didn't want to be and I was right to be angry. But I guess I feel bad about being angry at him. He cared enough to keep this." Alistair held up a glued-together pendant. "It belonged to my mother. I broke it when I found out I was going to the Chantry. I threw it at Eamon, and I guess he managed to piece it together."

"He probably felt guilty."

Alistair took a couple of deep breaths. "That's what Leliana said. We had a little argument about that." Long sigh. "But as angry as I was at him he was the only family I had for a long time."

I think I snorted a little bit at that.

"What?"

I sighed. "You're not gonna like hearing this, so tell me to shut up now if you want." I waited.

So did Alistair, but he finally, quietly, said, "Go on."

"It's simple: family is who treats you right. Blood or not. Especially when things are bad. We – all of us – we're you're family."

"Oh. Really? Even Morrigan?"

"Yeah, even Morrigan. You may think she's a bitch and she may think you're an idiot but how many times have the two of you had each other's backs?"

Alistair rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Family sticks together and looks out for each other. Family doesn't send you to live in the stables to keep a trophy wife happy."

Alistair went tight at that. "You can shut up now."

"Okay." I turned and started walking away, but stopped. "Alistair, I'm sorry. Really."

"Just…go away."

So I did, and I'm now gonna go get drunk.

* * *

><p><strong>2 Firstfall, morning<strong>

A lot of alcohol yesterday evening. Props to the Grey Warden metabolism; I'm not hungover.

But I was pretty drunk when I went to crash out. And still buzzing when Oghren woke me up.

"Shaper! Wake up!"

I cracked an eye open. "Tell me why."

There was a slam and crash at the door.

"That's why."

"Huh?"

Oghren shoved my sword at me; I suddenly noticed his axe was bloody. I got a shot of adrenaline that sobered me up enough to think clearly.

"Uh…."

"Where's your sodding door? You're gonna need it."

I yanked my still serviceable shield out from under the bed and flinched as there was another crash from the door. Oghren helped me don it in about three seconds; I drew my blade and felt the warm tingling calm radiate up my arm. I snapped my eyes to the door, blinked as they kept going, and pulled them back to the bits of flickering Veil I could see. Yeah, I was still buzzing.

"I'll open the door, you thump the blighters, and I'll turn'em into chunky bits."

"Blighters? Darkspawn?" But I couldn't feel any; just Alistair and Neria close by.

Oghren shrugged. "Eh. Close enough."

Without any more delay he trotted over and yanked the door open. A couple of gray-skinned humans hung up on each other as they tried to get in, then saw me and let out a piercing wailing that killed most of the buzz I had remaining. I yelled back and charged; I clipped one of them under the chin and staggered it then swung at the other. I got a clean hit, but Oghren got the kill by crushing its head.

The first creature came back at me; I hung it up on my shield and let Oghren hack at it.

"Headshots!" I yelled.

"Yeah, right!"

Boom. The dwarf's got pretty good reach with that axe.

"Any more?"

"There were more in the hall, but-"

"Let's go!"

On the way out the door I took a quick look at our victims. I thought I recognized one of the guards from a couple days ago, but the significance of that didn't register at the time. We stumbled into the hallway and I caught a blur of something off to my left.

"That way!"

Oghren and I charged down the hall, beating on doors and yelling ("To arms!") as we went. He said he'd taken care of a couple of the monsters himself but thought there were at least three or four more.

We ran into one immediately; it was banging against a flimsy door. We could hear screams from inside. No problem. I lunged forward and delivered a perfect thrust to the side of the creature's head. The little Veil tear poofed away silently.

"Nice, shaper!"

I saw another blur, or the same one, head down the corridor just as a healthy but bloody guard came up behind us.

He blinked at us and the dead-again corpse. "Maker's breath; what are these things?"

"Zombies. Get'em in the head and they'll stay down."

The wide-eyed man nodded. "Yes, ser."

Oghren yelled at me from the top of a staircase. "Come on, shaper!"

We headed downstairs and ran into a couple more zombies. I ran over one (I think she worked in the kitchens) and bull-rushed the second just like I'd done to the Templar. I pinned it against the wall while it snarled and screeched and screamed and swiped at me. I had a few seconds to examine it; its eyes weren't empty, but rather glowing with a combination of hungry anger and a Veil tear. Somewhere, deep in there, something was looking back at me, although I'm positive it wasn't the person the thing used to be.

I stayed lost in the instant until Oghren and the guard yelled at me to get clear. As I did I saw a small figure detach itself from a shadow and make a break for the hallway, but I was faster and cut it off

I dropped my sword and grabbed Connor's nightshirt. "Kid, you okay?"

Connor's mouth twitched as if he didn't know whether to smile or frown or even quite how to use it. He didn't fight but instead stared up at me with wide, liquid eyes that flashed with the Veil and then he spoke with a fascinated voice. "You're much taller than I expected you to be."

* * *

><p><em>AN: apologies for the long delay, but real life once again reared its ugly head. Ugh. Work, home, and medical all combined for a nasty triple-shot. Don't worry; I'm fine, and Author Existence Failure isn't in the foreseeable future._

_As always, I'd like to thank everybody for the kind words you have for _**MoN**. _I'm committed to providing a quality product and sometimes that means slow going at the keyboard._

_A lot of the reviews focused on the surprise of Eamon's death and how that will affect the politics of the Landsmeet. I obviously don't want to say much regarding that for fear of spoilers, but there will be more non-canon happenings coming up._

_A second thread in the reviews was the dwarven firearms. At the risk of a [SPOILER] that subplot is off blowing in the wind right now. Jeff and company were kicked out of Orzammar before he could find out about Joastin's progress. But be patient, and that patience will be rewarded._

_The third thread was about why Connor wasn't possessed. I'm hoping this chapter helps answer some of that question; expect more answers next chapter._

**Ericboy: ** _Alistair's fight with Jeff was indeed due to a fit of jealously, but Neria turned down his romance option in Orzammar. Jeff voiced his concerns regarding Leliana being a rebound romance. And yes, Neria's real name is Solona; I'd made that mistake early on but developed some head canon to resolve it. I hope you approve._

**Jozern:** _when I wrote the scene with the Archdemon writing it as a male just seemed right, although if it's a god it can be anything it wants to be, at least in the Fade._

**Charlie019:** _when I think about the dwarves' situation it just gets depressing. Like Branka said, they spend more time figuring out how to kill each other rather than darkspawn, and they're not replacing their losses near fast enough. Bioware's canon seems to indicate the dwarven kingdom has about a century, at most, remaining unless something drastically changes. But in the short term the dwarves can provide a lot of manpower to fight the darkspawn. Actually, they have to. If Ferelden gets overrun by the Blight Orzammar's cut off from the surface, and the only other way out is the Deep Roads._

**InsidiousAgent:** _I don't want to say too much because of privacy concerns, but Jeff retired as a Sergeant First Class (enlisted grade E-7; that's a senior noncommissioned officer usually in charge of a platoon) and his military occupational specialty was Morse code._


	85. Fractures

**2 Firstfall, morning**

"I don't care what you think's wrong with him you don't treat children like that!"

I rubbed my head where the flat of Oghren's axe had connected. Wynne and Neria had patched me up, but head wounds are pretty messy and my hand came away bloody. "How's Connor?" I asked.

As I'd looked into his eyes I felt myself falling into them.

_relax accept enjoy_

I'd reacted by reflex and just shoved the kid into the wall. Well, the demon that's inside, but Connor's body took the worst of it. He/she/they staggered, looked up at me with angry disbelief, and made some kind of bending move. I didn't wait to see what would come out of his hands; I just punched her lights out.

And Oghren took exception to that.

"Oghren," Wynne soothed, "it's pretty clear what's wrong with him. He's possessed, and become an abomination, and we'll-"

"What? Have to kill the whelp? Oh, don't think I don't know what happens to mages when a demon turns'em."

"Oghren, you don't understand-"

"No! Don't care what's wrong with him, you figure out something different."

"I will do it," Sten said firmly. "I will ensure the boy does not suffer."

"And you'll have to go through me, big guy."

"If necessary. The child has truly become bas sarebas."

Oghren looked around for a sympathetic face. "Where's pretty boy?"

Wynne handed me a damp rag. "He – and Morrigan – are watching the child. They understand the danger he presents."

Dangerous is right. Somehow Amy/Connor converted thirteen people, or at least that's how many ended up as zombies. But after I knocked him out and Oghren took me down they'd put Connor in his bed and had a maid watch him. She became the fourteenth zombie. Alistair put her down and then Connor was force-fed a sleeping draught.

Oghren actually hefted his axe. "They better not-"

Wynne stared pointedly at Sten. "Nobody will do anything until the Arlessa and the Bann have finished talking."

"And then…?" Oghren growled.

"And then-" Wynne somberly started.

I rubbed my forehead with my bloody hand. Despite the healing I still had a headache. But I quickly interrupted Wynne. "There may be another way. Get Jowan up here." I didn't bother looking up. "Just do it."

* * *

><p>"That is a lot of lyrium," Jowan said quietly.<p>

There were almost three dozen vials laid out. Most were opaque, but a few were clear, and the liquid inside ranged from the bright blue of a summer sky to the indigo of brand-new jeans. And we still had bits of lyrium to make more potions. Lots more potions.

We shrugged as a group.

"Well, getting someone into the Fade shouldn't be an issue, but who will go?"

* * *

><p>Isolde's stare was equal parts anger and worry. "You will not harm him. Should you…."<p>

Morrigan's return stare was coldly disdainful. "I will…endeavor…to free the child. But I make no prom-"

Isolde whipped around to Wynne. "You said-"

Wynne's stare was commanding. "I made no promises, except that the demon will be dealt with. If Jowan's method works, so be it." She didn't say anything about it not working.

Isolde spun again, this time to face Teagan. "You must protect him!"

Teagan shook his head. "The child is possessed, and he should be put-"

"You will not hurt him!" Another spin, this time to Oghren. "Ser dwarf, tell them!"

Oghren glared up from where he was sitting against the wall. He was working steadily on his flask and there were a couple of empties next to him. He belched then answered, "Witch may be a bitch but she knows what she's doing."

Morrigan narrowed her eyes.

"See? But listen: I don't like this any more than you. But they're giving your whelp a chance."

"Well, why the-" Isolde cut something off then continued. "-apostate? And you? Why not the girl, too? And Bentley?"

Wynne answered calmly. "As you see, I have many years of experience behind me. And Morrigan has been…uniquely trained. And Neria is a Grey Warden; she's too valuable to risk And Jowan will power the ritual."

Isolde opened her mouth again.

Wynne closed it with the Stare. "If you want this attempted then cease your protests and allow us to get on with it!"

* * *

><p>"Sten, no." Neria's voice was no-nonsense.<p>

"The child is possessed; he should be-"

"I know, but no." Neria looked around the room at everyone. "Not unless this goes badly." She lowered her voice and half whispered, "Please. We need Isolde's help, and if we don't do this…."

Sten stood there and rumbled for a few seconds, his face more stoic than usual. "And how will I know if things go 'badly'?"

Alistair looked over from the rune circle Jowan and Wynne had laid out. "Trust me, you'll know."

Sten rumbled again. "If things go badly I will not hesitate to act. With or without your approval." He nodded to Neria and took his place opposite Alistair.

* * *

><p>Connor, Wynne, and Morrigan were lying in the circle. Wynne's hands were shaking from the concentrated lyrium potion she'd drunk. Morrigan was probably feeling it, too, but she refused to show any reaction. Connor was still out from whatever he'd been drugged with.<p>

Jowan looked nervously around the room. "They're ready. So am I."

"Do it," Neria said grimly.

Jowan hunched over and looked at the floor as he nodded at Neria. He smoothly pulled a knife and slashed his hand. He hissed sharply and suddenly a red fog filled the air above the circle. The fog hung, frozen, for just a few seconds, then suddenly turned black and fell to the floor with supernatural speed. There was a fine layer of black dust on the floor. I'm pretty sure it's dried blood.

But I didn't think about that right away. Instead I threw my hands up and turned my head from the blinding flash of a Veil tear, heard Thing's hiss, then looked up to see Neria and Oghren standing over me.

Neria's eyes were wide. "Are you okay?"

"I think so." I sat up without any dizziness. "Yeah, I'm okay."

I looked over towards the rune circle. Jowan was nowhere in sight. Alistair was standing and watching and looked tensely unhappy. Sten was standing opposite him and was calmly alert. Isolde was sitting on the far side of the room watching every breath of Connor's like it was his last. Teagan was sitting and watching quietly; he was unreadable but deathly pale.

"How long?" I asked.

"A few minutes," Neria answered. "We thought you were-"

"So did I for a second."

Neria's hands suddenly glowed with healing energy and she gave me a rough once-over. She even checked my popping shoulder and creaky knees, but all three joints were fine. And then she ran a hand across my stubbly cheek and gave a little grin.

"What?"

"Your beard. It's almost completely dark." She thumbed the whiskers. "Some of them are white but dark underneath."

I thought about it for a second and come up with the obvious answer. "Maybe I'm Jeff's evil twin."

* * *

><p>I handed Alistair a cup of strong tea. "You need a break?"<p>

He'd been there for at least an hour but shook his head grimly. Still, Alistair took the cup and drank. "I'm fine." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "This is why I don't think I could be a Templar. I understand why we need Templars, but…." He looked down at the three unconscious figures. "You know, if I'd been a Templar, I might have had to guard Neria during her Harrowing…." Sigh. "I'll do what I have to do, but I won't like it."

Sten spoke firmly. "The role of Templar does not suit you. You are too thoughtful, and see distinctions where none exist. But as a Grey Warden your mind and your goals are clear. This role suits you."

Alistair and I exchanged a look with each other then with Sten.

"Uh…thank you?" Alistair asked.

Sten nodded. "You lack leadership ability, but this can be learned."

"Ah. I was waiting for that."

* * *

><p>"I gotta tell you, shaper: I don't like this."<p>

I stared down at the unconscious trio. All three were breathing deeply and slowly, as if they were asleep, although Morrigan had twitched a bit at one point, and that made Alistair jump, and that's when he decided to take a break. So I stepped in, and Oghren offered to relieve Sten, but the giant stood impassively across the circle from me.

"Big guy; he's ready to step in and lop off that boy's head. Probably take grandma's and the bitch's head, too."

Sten grumbled but didn't say anything.

"That's the one law in Orzammar nobody breaks: don't hurt the younglings. No matter what. I remember some Carta fellow went after a duster and smacked around the whelp instead. Even Jarvia couldn't protect him. Last I heard he was selling soap in Antiva." Oghren drank deeply and noisily. "Gotta remember things are different topside. Still don't have to like it, though."

* * *

><p>"Could someone help me up, please?" Wynne opened her eyes with zero fuss or drama, but her jaw was set and she had an angry cast to her face.<p>

Isolde practically leaped from where she'd been watching. "Is it done?"

Wynne looked around. "How long…?"

Alistair offered a hand. "A couple of hours."

Wynne waved off the helping hand and instead rolled over and crawled out of the circle. Only then did she let herself be pulled up. She stretched and started working out the kinks. "Oh, the demon is persistent. And clever."

"But is it done?" Isolde demanded.

Wynne Stared. "No."

"But why?"

Wynne flushed and turned away. "The demon is clever."

* * *

><p>I jerked awake and the journal fell off my lap and hit the floor with a soft thump. I blinked, shook my head, and took in a bemused Morrigan staring at me from the circle.<p>

"So," she said, "were you sent here deliberately or did you grow tired of waiting and come here on your own?"

"Uh…." I looked around. Everything had that not-quite-detailed-enough look that things in the Fade have. The tables just have a couple of things sitting on them; the walls don't have the texture you expect. And the pages in my journal had what looked like writing but except for short stretches only contained random words. "I think I fell asleep. But why are you here and not chasing down the demon?"

Morrigan stood and arched her back. "That is an excellent question." She took a couple steps towards me then tried to jump away from me.

I'd leapt out of the chair and caught Morrigan by the arm. I yanked her close to me and tried the one thing I knew the real Morrigan wouldn't put up with: I copped a feel.

Morrigan's eyes narrowed.

I started moving my thumb but didn't get to finish; Morrigan's restrained blast merely threw me across the room. I'm probably lucky she didn't knock me out of the Fade and back into my home 'verse.

Morrigan strode up to me. "Satisfied?"

The pain evaporated into tingling sparks and was gone but not forgotten. "Satisfied."

* * *

><p>"I hate empty shopping malls," I said. "I always expect zombies."<p>

"Zombies?" Morrigan asked absently. She was looking around the food court with curious awe.

I eyed the empty pizza place. (Damn I could go for a slice and a coke.) "Like those things the demon created."

"I see. And this place: what is it?"

"A building full of shops. A shop of shops, if you will."

"An indoor marketplace?"

"Exactly."

"And why are we standing here in it?"

"I have no idea, but here." I offered Morrigan a rifle.

She looked at it curiously. "Your Fade weapon? Are you not afraid to go unarmed?"

I raised a second rifle in my free hand. I had the grenade launcher on that one. "Nope."

Morrigan inclined her head. "My thanks for the offer, but I would not know how to use it well enough. My magic will suffice."

"If you say so."

* * *

><p>I pointed towards the gray roof peeking above the brown and green (but mostly brown) landscape. "There."<p>

"And this is your home?"

Sigh. "The Fade version of it anyway."

Morrigan was quiet as we walked. "And why have we come here?"

"I have no idea, but it was…important when I had my Joining dream, so it's probably important now."

Skepticism quietly dripped off the witch.

"Besides, where else do we have to go?"

"I concede your point."

* * *

><p>The door was locked again. I reached into a pocket and dug out the house key. Being in the Fade does have some benefits.<p>

"A curious device," Morrigan whispered. She ran her fingers over the old Rockhopper leaning against the wall. She didn't have anything to say about the cars.

"I'll tell you about it later. Come on."

We eased inside, me first, rifle ready. The décor was what it was supposed to be; no columns, or curtains, or Archdemon. Just a dim hallway with a couple of pieces of furniture, and the sounds of wood clunking together from another room. I motioned towards the noise, got a nod from Morrigan, and moved forward about fifteen feet.

Arl Eamon is an old man. Slender with a bit of a pot belly, and completely gray through the hair and neat beard. But he is/was fit, and when Morrigan and I appeared he looked up from where he was sitting with bright, quick eyes and smiled. "May I help you?"

"Father!" Connor said excitedly. "These are Uncle Teagan's guests! The ones I told you about!"

"Yes," Eamon said smoothly. "Yes, they are." He stood up smoothly and the smile broadened. "Keep playing while I speak with them."

I got chicken skin; I'm pretty sure Eamon wasn't supposed to have pointy teeth. I started to raise the rifle.

Eamon shook his head. "In front of the child?"

"I have no qualms," Morrigan said from behind me. I somehow sensed her channeling mana.

"I'm getting to that point," I added. I had the rifle halfway up."

The inhuman smile got wider. "Oh, hasn't the poor thing been through enough?" Eamon casually opened his hand to display a glowing ball of energy.

I glanced at Connor. He was sitting and happily playing with some wooden blocks and didn't seem to notice the standoff.

Eamon beat me to it. "Connor," he asked, "do you remember what you said you'd do if anyone ever tried to hurt me or your mother?"

The boy looked up from the blocks; his face was deadly serious. "I said I'd use my magic to save you."

"I still have no qualms," Morrigan whispered.

I did, though. "Connor, look in that yellow bin." I pointed. "You'll find something interesting in there." I looked to Eamon. (Amy?) "Let's talk in private."

Eamon's smile got bigger. "We'll talk here."

* * *

><p>I looked back to where Connor was happily snapping Legos together. Eamon was standing more-or-less in front of him, holding the rifle uncomfortably ("<em>You<em> will be unarmed."), watching carefully as Morrigan and I considered his offers. Well, one of them. Morrigan outright rejected the delayed possession ("He is not ours to surrender to you.") and dismissed the blood magic training ("A path to power, but not growth.").

"But the demon," she continued in a whisper, "has knowledge you apparently find valuable."

"Yeah," I grumbled, "but you're right about the kid, and I'm not too keen giving myself up."

"So we reject the offers, and destroy the demon?"

"Do you really want to kill the kid's father right in front of him? I know it's not really his father," I finished urgently.

Morrigan frowned at me. "I have no-"

"I know, but I do."

"Then how shall we proceed?"

"Do you think you can distract Connor? Just for a few seconds?"

Morrigan studied me for a bit. I hunched as the golden eyes took me in but quickly straightened back up and met the gaze. "Your conscience will be your downfall," she finally said. "But I can distract the child." Without hesitation she spun about and walked away from me. "Connor. Did Bentley teach you anything of shape-shifting?"

Connor looked up from some random shape. "No, lady…."

I caught Eamon's eye. "You have an offer for me."

The pointy smile showed through the gray beard. "So you're finally going to accept it?"

I nodded at the confirmation of the demon's identity then shook my head. "No. We're done."

"A pity. You are an interesting mortal, and your home is fascinating. Are you sure-"

I just kept shaking my head. "I know the cost the too well, and since I'm stuck here I'm not willing to pay it."

"But the boy-"

"Already said he's not mine to give. He's not even his to give."

"But he gave himself freely."

"Without understanding the risks. Haven't you ever heard of informed consent?"

Demon-Eamon grinned more widely. "He chose happiness over sadness. Why can't you?"

"I prefer cold reality to a warm fantasy." I waved my hand at the surroundings. "Such as it is."

"I can give you that cold reality."

"I really doubt you can."

So we went through this three or four times before I decided to go to the next step. I looked over to where Morrigan was speaking with an enraptured Connor. Well, Morrigan in wolf form. She was sitting on her haunches giving the boy a big doggy (wolfy?) laugh. Connor was stuck in some kind of werewolf boy shape, but was laughing back at the witch.

"Oh, but I can," Eamon said again.

"No, you can't." I raised the new rifle I'd summoned and emptied the magazine.

Amy/Eamon didn't even have time to scream, and the rifle in his hands kept her from defending herself properly. The bullets didn't leave bloody wounds; instead chunks of demon seemed to collapse on itself as each round hit. Before I finished the magazine there was a flare of a light and the demon kind of burst apart into its component particles. The other rifle fell to the floor with a plastic clatter. I didn't bother reloading mine.

I don't know if Morrigan or Connor was more shocked at the burst of gunfire, or whether they were more shocked with how quickly Eamon went down, or if Connor even linked the noise with his father's disappearance, but after a few seconds of silence Connor let out a wordless howl of anguish and something came flying at my head. I dived away, felt the heat of an explosion, jumped up running, ducked around a corner and into my bedroom. I heard more crying and sudden quiet, and peeked out of the bedroom to find the house disturbingly empty.

"Morrigan?"

No answer.

"Anybody?"

Still no answer.

"Well," I said to the empty rooms, "that was anticlimactic."

But, for the moment, I was home. I looked around the house; the details were pretty accurate, down to the pattern on the rugs and long-expired buttermilk in the fridge. I picked up a phone, got tone, but when I dialed the other end just rang. The TV turned on but it wasn't getting a signal. The computers booted to blank desktops. A random book I picked up just had a rough sketch of the cover art and mostly blank pages. The shower did, however, run hot water.

I was tempted to jump in and steam myself but instead I sat down and started snapping Legos together. I made a little dragon and surrounded it with Lego men. The dragon won.

* * *

><p><em>AN: yes, it was a long time between updates, but it's been a crazy month of work, home, and school, and I've got more craziness waiting for me over the next few days._

_Good news for anyone out there planning to go to the Phoenix Comicon: the headliner guest is Bruce Freaking Campbell! Maybe I can scrounge a picture of Michael Weston for him to autograph…. XD_

_I'd like to give a shout out to my younger spawn: he graduated Army basic training a few months ago and just finished his MOS training a couple weeks ago. He's now off to his first duty station; please wish him good fortune in the manner of your choosing._

_Story shout out! (Been a long time since I've done one, hasn't it? Anyway…) Please take a look at ElyssaCousland's_ **There and Back Again**. _It's another self-insert, but very different in tone and style from_ **MoN**.

**PoptartProdigy & OnkelJo:** _no comments right now on a potential romantic option for Jeff._

**IkemDarkron:** _Jeff's butterfly effects haven't had much chance to spread outside of Ferelden yet, but I have given some thought as to what form they might take. _

_The interaction with Urthemiel just seemed right (for lack of a better word). And why wouldn't the Archdemon try to corrupt Grey Wardens going through their Joining or Calling? I've always wondered about the nature of those darkspawn generals…._

_I'd given some thought about what a prepared team of soldiers would or could do if they ended up in Ferelden, and started to explore that in Stargate: Origins. (I really need to update that, don't I?)_

**Imminent:** _thanks for the kind words. The plan right now is to finish up the events of DA:O under this title. What happens after that is still up in the air._

**InsidiousAgent:** _at the risk of giving up a [MINOR SPOILER] I have drafted out the fates of the different Origins characters. We've seen at least one already and may see others._

_I don't feel like you were being intrusive, but I for obvious reasons I am concerned about giving up too much personal information. And it's always interesting to hear how other military personnel view things from their perspective._

**Charlie019:** _the dwarven situation is, from a long-term view, desperate and grim. Right now most of the observers can't see the mine for all the rocks, though. I don't know if Bioware intended things to be that bad for the dwarves but they're right on the edge._

_But this is where I got the dwarven attitude towards children. I know it's a cliché, but children are their future, and they have to take care of the ones they have. But, as we've seen, not actively hurting the kids doesn't mean the casteless ones get better care._

**omega brane:** _excellent question. Aside from lift jacks, onion rings, and CPR Jeff hasn't directly mentioned much about modern technology and/or knowledge. Although he has made some notes in his journals about tech and knowledge he's been playing his cards close to his vest and hoarding that information for maximum leverage. I can't say if he's planning on becoming a Connecticut Yankee because of the risk of spoilers._

**Dur'id the Druid: ** _the US Army did indeed list Morse code specialists as a completely separate MOS until 2005._


	86. U-Turns

A warm hand shook me gently. "You are awake, mio amico?"

I felt rested for a change, but was stiff and sore from sleeping in the chair and my back popped as I tried moving. The formerly busy room was now empty and pitch black except for a single candle and Zevran standing over me.

"I'm sorry, but it's near dawn, and you've slept soundly," he said quietly. "We must be gone soon."

"Huh?"

"Morrigan was successful. But Connor-" A shrug. "-he awoke, and screamed, and cried with grief for his father. The Arlessa snatched him away. We were afraid the child might still be possessed, but Morrigan woke soon after and declared victory over the demon. The Arlessa allowed Wynne to examine Connor, and the boy is indeed free, but the Arlessa is angered by our mere presence. We are to be gone from Redcliffe-" Zevran gestured theatrically towards the ceiling. "-before the sun warms the door to the castle. I believe we have only a couple of hours."

"Huh?"

Zevran's teeth reflected the candlelight. "Gather your wits and your possessions; we must be off soon."

* * *

><p><strong>3 Firstfall, noon<strong>

So we stood shivering in the gray light of pre-dawn, ready to go, but waiting for Neria and Wynne to show up. Except Wynne didn't; Neria spun through the castle doors like a little Tasmanian devil and shouted something back through before she slammed them behind her. She whirled around again, fixed us with a glare, and snapped, "Let's go!"

"But-" was the collective answer.

"I'll tell you later!"

So, without Wynne, we hit the road. Interestingly, as we left the castle, there were a handful of Templars waiting just outside the gate. They didn't say anything to us, but two of them followed along behind us as we rolled into the town. That left three more to watch the castle.

And that lead to some speculating on our part, but Neria didn't confirm anything. Instead she just tromped along next to the cart half-shivering from the cold but slowly warming up from the pace. She ignored the Templars, but that was okay because the rest of us were keeping an obvious watch on them. They clanked along behind us like steam engines, visibly puffing air out of their helmets as they struggled to keep up.

Neria only said a few words, but that's all she needed to direct our course. We changed direction while in town and we suddenly realized we were headed for the Chantry. Neria didn't say anything else, but the tension level went way up. Except for Morrigan; she just smirked. And Sten was as implacable as ever.

We drew up to the Chantry as the sun hit it. There were a couple of Templars on the steps; they visibly reacted as they saw us and one took the obvious step of ducking inside. By the time he came back out we were well past the building, so we couldn't see the expression on the Revered Mother's face as she followed him onto the steps.

"That," Leliana said as we turned a corner and put the Chantry out of sight, "was needlessly antagonistic. We will need the Chantry with us."

Neria didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>The Templars following us were audibly puffing by the time we reached the edge of town.<p>

Oghren looked back with a chuckle. "Think they'll follow us all the way to-?" His mouth smacked shut. "Hey, Missy! Where we going?"

* * *

><p>"…and that's why we need to go to Ostagar," Alistair finished.<p>

Sten rumbled in defeat. "Very well."

I knew we'd need to swing down to Ostagar, but there was another stop we needed to make first. I reached out and tapped the map; I indicated a marker west and a bit south of Redcliffe. "I think we need to go here first."

"Honnleath?" Alistair asked.

Neria fiddled with her fingers. "That's…a week – at least a week - out of our way," she added.

"Why would we wish to go there?" Sten demanded.

I shrugged. "There's something there that'll help." I kept going before anyone could protest. "Call it a hunch, maybe I dreamed it, but I think that's where we need to go next."

Sten grumbled. Zevran shrugged. Leliana frowned.

Alistair looked confused. "Are you sure? I've never been there, but from what I've heard it's not very big."

"I'm sure."

Sten grumbled. "Is visiting this town truly necessary? I am concerned we are wasting time we may not have."

Neria glanced at the giant, bit her lip, and then turned back to me. "Are you _sure_? I mean-"

"I know, but there _was_ something wrong here, wasn't there? I wish there hadn't been, but…. And it could have been a lot worse if Oghren hadn't been raiding the kitchen."

Neria sighed and nodded. "Fine."

Morrigan scowled. "This means we will have to go back through this wretched town."

Neria grinned. "And right by the Chantry again."

Morrigan's scowl turned into the trademark smirk. "Then let us be off."

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

It took some time during the day but we eventually got the story from Neria. Somebody (Teagan, Isolde, maybe even Wynne, maybe somebody not on this list) leaked the word about the mages being harbored in Redcliffe Castle. That's why Wynne has taken it upon herself to ensure Connor's journey to the Circle Tower is a safe one. She's also taken it upon herself to ensure Jowan safely arrives at the Circle Tower.

Guess we'll see how that works out.

So the evening staff meeting broke up and we split duties for camp, and then Alistair approached me. An embarrassed Alistair. "Um, Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"I…won't…be…sharing the…tent…with you tonight."

I started to ask why not but got the clue before I opened my mouth. Besides, Leliana was standing in my line of sight; she had a knowing smile on her face. "That's okay."

Alistair added some worry to the embarrassment. "You're sure?"

I nodded and gave him a smile I really couldn't feel. "I understand." I clapped him on the shoulder. "Good on you, dude."

A half-smile popped up. "Thanks."

So I left Alistair to his not-so-unpleasant fate and went in search of the person I needed to talk to, but hadn't had a chance to on the road. As always, Morrigan pitched her tent a bit away from the rest of us, although she has been more willing to socialize with the rest of us. Provided you count sitting back in the shadows and watching and listening while saying almost nothing. Anyway…

"Begone, dwarf."

"Not til I've had my say."

Morrigan narrowed her eyes and her lips.

"Taking care of the whelp the way you did."

Morrigan's eyes flicked towards me. I gave her a tiny shake of my head.

Oghren (probably) didn't notice. "Didn't think you cared that much. Well, good on you." He offered up his flask.

Morrigan pretended not to notice it. She inclined her head slightly and opened her mouth. I expected her to say she didn't care that much, but instead, frostily, said, "My thanks. Now begone, dwarf."

Oghren shrugged and drank. "Well, good on you anyway." He turned around and staggered stiff-leggedly backs towards the fire. I'm pretty sure he didn't see me.

Morrigan did though. "I would speak with you."

I slid out of the shadow I was in. "Figured you would."

"The...land we explored while in the Fade. That was indeed your home?"

"It was. More or less."

"And what is pizz-ah? You seemed fascinated by that sign."

"It's pizza, and it's delicious, and I'd give, well, a lot for some right now."

It was a little too dark to see her expression, but her voice was curious. "A food then? Could you not recreate it here?"

I thought about that for a second. Ferelden has bread, garlic, cheese, herbs, but…. "Have you ever heard of tomatoes?"

Morrigan quickly shook her head. "I have not."

Resigned sigh. "Then no."

"And the two-wheeled device?"

"The bicycle? I thought you'd be more interested in the cars."

"The closed metal carts? They seemed simple enough. The…bicycle, though, that appeared to be a finely crafted and intricate machine."

"The cars were too."

"And your weapon?"

"Uhm…."

Morrigan laughed quietly. Sinisterly, it seemed.

"I'd like to keep that between us."

"You know I can keep secrets. But how does it work? And could you recreate it here?"

Sigh. "Mechanically, it's actually pretty simple, but I just don't have the skills to build one."

"But the dwarves do?"

"Uhm…."

Morrigan laughed again. "It was wise of you to keep that secret from our Qunari companion." Despite the laugh her tone was deadly serious.

I felt some heat in my face. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

"Tell me: are these weapons rare or common in your land?"

"Very common. Every soldier has one; a lot of civilians – uh, non-soldiers – do too."

"So darkspawn are easily dealt with?"

My turn to laugh, although it was rueful. "There aren't any darkspawn where I'm from."

Beat. "Truly?"

"We have a lot of problems, but darkspawn ain't one of them."

Another beat. "I see." Beat, and Morrigan's voice became businesslike. "My thanks for your time." She turned away and headed for her tent.

I shrugged and turned around and headed back to the main camp.

Morrigan called quietly as I walked away. "Do not forget to write of this in your journal!"

I dropped my eyes, shook my head, kept walking, and literally bumped into Leliana.

"So, Jeffrey, you and our witch…?"

I wanted to laugh but couldn't. "No. Not at all."

"That is a shame." There was laughter in her voice. Real laughter. It changed to regret. "I came to apologize for stealing Alistair from you. I certainly did not intend to leave you in the cold."

I thought about my answer for a little bit. I'll be honest: I wanted to be jealous; after all, Leliana was the first one of the bunch I met, and she pushes all my buttons, but…. I don't know. Maybe I am jealous but I'm pretty sure I'm not. At least not the relationship; just jealous that they've been able to get together, at least for the companionship. And, apparently, the benefits. I've gotta say that I'm feeling homesick and lonely right now. Anyway….

"There's nothing to apologize for. You two be happy." I almost added 'while you can' but managed to hold off.

There was relief and a smile in Leliana's voice. "I had worried a bit, but if you say you are okay with this…."

"I am. Now get back to Alistair before he gets jealous and we have to have another beatdown."

Leliana giggled quietly. "Yes, he is the jealous type, but I think I know why. I think you do, too." She reached out and squeezed my arm. "There is no need for you to be alone, though. Come, play cards with us, or at least just talk."

I shook my head even though it was probably too dark to see it. "No. A lot happened over the last couple of days, and I need to think about it. And try to sleep."

"Neria also turned my offer away."

I shook my head again. "Nothing going on there."

Leliana sighed. "I did not mean to imply anything was. But you are both taking much upon yourselves."

"Yeah, I know. We really need some downtime, but we're not gonna get it for a while."

Leliana was quiet at that, but at the edge of camp she stopped. "Perhaps something can be arranged. Until then, stay strong, my friend."

* * *

><p><strong>4 Firstfall, morning<strong>

I jerked a thumb towards my four o'clock. "So what's with the goons?"

Sten glared at the Templars and snorted steam out his nose. "They arrived not long after your watch. The Warden allowed them to stay provided they cause no trouble." The corner of the giant's mouth twitched. "I believe they are more frightened of the weather than their superiors."

There were four Templars huddling around our fire. Four pretty cold and miserable looking Templars trying to warm up a meager breakfast. Granted, we were pretty cold ourselves, but we didn't force march ourselves halfway through the night. They were the bunch we'd picked up going back through Redcliffe, but I'd honestly thought we'd left them behind given the pace we'd been setting. But, from overhearing the Templars' talk, the Revered Mother put the fear of the Maker and herself into them.

I guess we'll see how long that lasts.

* * *

><p>It's noon, and there's no sign of the Templars. We're going slow, but they're slower. I almost feel sorry for them.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

"I would ask you for a small length of Velcro."

I nodded at Sten, ducked into my tent, and found my pack. I dug deep into the pack until my fingers recognized the stuff and pulled it out. Back out of the tent and back over to Sten. "How much?"

Sten critically eyed the strip. "There is not much remaining."

He's right. I haven't said much (anything?) about it up to now, but we've been using the Velcro tape for the hundred and one little things that you can use it for. I doled it out as sparingly as I could, even cut it in half lengthwise, but we were going to run out eventually.

I held up the last few inches. "How much do you need?"

Sten pursed his lips before answering. "Perhaps half of what is remaining."

I just nodded and cut off what he asked for. Ding. "That's it. No more."

Sten accepted the strip with a nod and examined it casually. "Could you not make more?"

Oy. I'd have to start by figuring out how to make nylon. "I don't even know where to start."

The giant nodded. "As it should be." He turned away but looked back briefly. "My thanks." He strode away, stopping to speak with Leliana. I didn't hear the conversation but she ducked into her tent and remerged with needle and thread. Local version. I think Wynne still has the sewing kit.

But I chuckled at the thought of Sten sewing whatever he was gonna sew, then frowned at the last couple inches of the Velcro. I crawled back into the tent and went digging into my pack.

Zevran looked over from where he was reclined. (Yeah, we're sharing a tent, but we've come to an understanding about it.) "It is useful stuff, no?"

"Very. But that's it."

"I don't know; that last little bit could be helpful. I have more pockets that need alarming."

Without answering I pulled out the ziplock bag and eyeballed the watch and cell phone and pencil. The pencil lead was gone, the cell phone didn't have anything to say, and the watch just kept silently and uselessly ticking away the seconds. I dropped the Velcro into the bag with the other artifacts, resealed it with a sigh, and stuffed it back into the bottom of the pack.

"Homesick, mio amico?"

"Yeah."

"It's best not to dwell on it."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"Come. Let us find some others, and play cards."

"I don't think I'm up for that right now."

Zevran grinned. "Oh, come on. I'd like to win the fishing rights you won from Alistair."

I gave a little half-laugh. "I don't think that was entirely legal."

Zevran's grin widened. "Who cares? Soon he will owe us the kingdom and we'll have to find something else to play for."

* * *

><p><strong>5 Firstfall, morning<strong>

Three snoring Templars and one barely awake greeted the rest of the group as they woke up. The Chantry muscle had stumbled in late during my watch. I just pointed to the fire and said, "Don't cause any trouble."

Their leader grumbled something back at me but I took that for assent, and they didn't cause any trouble. So I passed them off to Oghren when he came on watch; the dwarf let out a "Heh, heh," and didn't even acknowledge them. But when I woke back up Oghren wasn't nicely toasted but instead dead alert; apparently he hadn't hit his flask as hard as usual.

Oghren grinned and laughed as the others examined the Templars. "Goons. Good word. But they can't hold their booze. Heh. Guess they stayed warm, though."

Sten recoiled from a Templars face. "I believe numb would be a more appropriate description."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Alistair facepalmed. "You did what?"

Neria's finally come out of her shell. She'd spent the days walking in silence, staring at the ground or the sky, and saying almost nothing, even to or about the Templars. When we made camp she'd a few orders, confirm the guard rotation, eat some dinner, and crawl into her tent. I never heard any crying but she was obviously upset, but that seems to finally be over. Although, she still seems kind of sullen, but we're dealing with that in our own way.

And, of course, there's what she said that made Alistair facepalm. "I invoked the Right of Conscription for Connor and Jowan."

Neria did her own facepalm and took a deep, slow breath. "It's the only way I could think of to keep them both safe. From everybody."

Alistair looked up from his facepalm. "But, Maker! Neria, Jowan's a blood mage! And a murderer! And…."

"And?"

Alistair shifted uncomfortably but didn't answer.

"Oh, just say it! It's Jowan fault I'm a Grey Warden. But…oh, Alistair. Can we talk about this later?"

"Will we have to?"

"No."

"Fine."

"Fine." Neria looked around at everybody. "Eat. Get some sleep. We cross that tomorrow." She pointed to a small mountain or a large hill; we could see the road switchbacking up. Her tired eyes focused on me. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

She jerked her head towards her tent, stood, and headed that way. I levered myself up and followed.

Alistair was quietly complaining about the decision. "And Connor's just a boy. He can't…."

Neria spun around when she reached her tent. "Jeffrey! Did I do the right thing? About Jowan?" Her eyes were begging me to say 'Yes.'

I wanted to say 'yes' but didn't know if I should. "I don't know. I mean- I don't know."

Neria gave me a kicked puppy look. "I didn't want to, but I _grew up with him_. He's my brother, and before you give me that family is who treats you right talk- _he's my brother_. And after everything else that happened at the Tower I couldn't-"

I stayed quiet.

Neria just stood there staring back at me. "It…feels like I did the right thing, but…."

I still didn't – and still don't – know what to say.

Neria sighed. "At least Wynne promised to get them both to the Tower safely."

"Speaking of which: what'll happen to Connor?"

"I don't know. I've never heard of anything like this happening before."

I didn't have anything else say, and apparently Neria didn't either. We stared at each other for a minute, shivered as a cold breeze hit, and turned away from each other. I heard Neria crawling into her tent; Cullen wriggled in after her.

Leliana and Alistair were standing away from the others and talking quietly, but Zevran, Oghren, and Sten eyeballed me as I returned to the fire.

"How is our capo bella?"

"Tired, angry, confused. Well, maybe not angry. Definitely upset about Jowan, though."

Oghren shrugged. "I think Missy shoulda just walked away from the sod. Leave him to the Templars."

I shook my head. "No. He's…she said he's too important to her."

Oghren huffed. "Branka was important to me, but I walked away. Hmph. Missy needs to get her head on straight." He chugged, shoved past me, and stalked over to Neria's tent. "Hey, missy!"

"Sod off!"

Oghren shrugged, chugged, and leaned forward and said something I didn't catch. A hand emerged from the tent, grabbed his flask, and pulled it back inside. I turned back to Zevran and Sten and heard coughing behind me.

"I think she's feeling better."

Zevran grinned, Sten scowled, and I went to scrounge some dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>6 Firstfall, <strong>**afternoon**

We hit the road this morning, started up the first switchback, and immediately hit a snag. The road probably isn't in the best of shape in summer; right now it's almost impassable. Okay, so I'm exaggerating about the impassable bit. And the steep part. But the road is rocky enough and, presently, snowy enough that we decided to hide the cart and loaded up both ourselves and Bill and plodded up a steep, snowy, rocky path.

We took a break at the top, looked back, saw no sign of the Templars, collectively shrugged, and kept going.

It was about halfway down the hill things changed. I got a tingling sensation in the back of my head; kind of like my leg had fallen asleep but was on pins and needles while waking back up. Except this was in my brain. As I turned my head the sensation changed and I got the impression I was doing some kind of crude direction finding. It turns out I was.

Neria spoke urgently from behind me. "Darkspawn! Two o'clock, and down."

Weapons went free. I slung on my shield and we advanced slowly.

"Not many," Alistair added quietly. "Only one or two."

"Right," I acknowledged.

"You sense them?"

"Right when Neria did."

"Hmm."

We worked our way down the road and as the feeling shifted around us the road changed. Where it had been a rough, but wide, dirt and gravel track it was now a paved but poorly maintained lane.

There was _clank_ as some metal struck a paver. "Dwarven work, or I'll shave my beard," Oghren muttered. "Bet there's a Deep Road entrance nearby."

"That way," Neria, Alistair, and I all said at the same time.

We turned left and headed along a level stretch of the road. The snow and dirt was packed down tightly; even I was able to tell a lot of feet came through not too long ago. The darkspawn feeling got stronger; not to the point of disabling me, but rather as a warning that meant there's something _right there_.

We heard the hissing growl before we saw the genlock, but the creature was in a pitiful state. It was pulling itself along with a limp leg trailing behind it, and shivering violently. But it reached for a rock and threw it weakly at us. The rock bounced away then Alistair simply walked up and stabbed the thing in the neck. The buzzing in my head just stopped although when I approached the corpse I could feel the Taint oozing out of its wound.

Neria walked up behind. "Watch out." She flamed the genlock corpse. "Let's go."

LINE BREAK

So we headed down the hill as quickly as we dared, passing (and burning) the occasional darkspawn corpse. The packed snow made the pavers slick but we were also worried about what might have happened in Honnleath. As we came down we could see the little town, but not well enough to make out details. The broad strokes were contradictory: no obvious movement, no smoke from chimneys or open fires, no sounds.

A raven glided into the trees. A few seconds later Morrigan strolled out. "There are no signs of life. There are many signs of death. A large pyre, and many darkspawn."

There's no wall or fence around Honnleath, but it's sitting up on a small hill that pretty much defines how you have to approach it. We grounded our packs, tied off Bill, and started the easy climb. We stayed weapons free as we approached the town, but the only sign of struggle we saw were a few darkspawn corpses with arrows sticking out of them. A short hill climb to the edge of town revealed more darkspawn corpses, all clearly melee casualties.

"At least they fought," Sten rumbled.

I linked eyes with Alistair and Neria. Both of them shook their heads to confirm what I wasn't feeling. There weren't any live darkspawn anywhere nearby, although we could feel the Taint of the dead ones, so what happened didn't happen that long ago.

Oghren poked a genlock. "And took some blighters with'em. Good on'em."

"No live darkspawn, but stay alert," Neria said. "Let's go."

We entered the town, came around a corner, and…

"Nice," I snapped.

"This was well done," Leliana said.

"Indeed," Sten rumbled.

The guards on the road had paid for the time to allow the town to set up an ambush. There were at least a couple dozen darkspawn riddled with arrows and piled up in the street. There's a similar number down in ones and twos; the casualties of a successful charge through the kill zone.

Alistair frowned at a body. "There had to have been a lot of darkspawn."

Zevran called back from where he was peeking ahead. "There were. But the town was well defended. Come see."

A moment later we were looking at the town square. Darkspawn corpses were, quite literally, strewn about. The first ones we saw had been taken down by arrows; as we moved forward more were showing signs of melee damage. And as we moved even further the corpses were showing major blunt force trauma. As if they'd been hit by a bus. Chests caved in. Limbs smashed. Heads turned into deflated footballs.

That wasn't the worst part. Or maybe it was. The burnt remnants of a long, low scaffold dominated the square; it wasn't hard to see the not-burned-enough remains of whoever'd been placed on the funeral pyre. From the size of it there'd been a lot of bodies, and not all of them were adults.

The Taint was scratching at my head, but there still weren't any live darkspawn around. At least that I could feel.

Cullen was sniffing curiously at an empty grassy spot. Leliana had an arrow nocked and ready; she watched the dog but kept a second eye on our surroundings. Cullen huffed as she interrupted his investigation and went back to sniffing.

Leliana called out to us. "What could have made this?"

We gathered around and took a look. There were a pair of oval indentations in the ground; each about two feet long and maybe a foot and a half wide. There was bare, hard-packed dirt surrounded by luxurious green grass. I frowned at the spots; what I'd hoped to find here was gone.

Oghren snorted. "Looks like golem feet. Well, the bottom side of golem feet."

"A golem?" Neria asked. "Where would they get one of those?"

Oghren snorted and shrugged. "Chaffed if I know. But I can't think of anything else that could do that." He pointed at a darkspawn whose face had been punched out the back of its head.

Morrigan spoke up. "I could have done so, although I would not have been so subtle about it."

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

With the help of some oil we found in a store we burned off the darkspawn corpses. Then we made a sweep of the town, but didn't find anything larger than the usual vermin you'd expect to find. The inhabitants had obviously loaded up everything they could carry and bugged out with everything that could walk. Including Shale. Here's hoping we'll run into her later.

One side note: Alistair and Zevran came back from exploring their assigned corner of the town.

For once Zevran didn't appear to be his usual confident self. "You tell them, mio amico."

Alistair just looked confused. "We…found…a cat."

Beat. Somebody finally said, "And…?"

Alistair still looked confused. "It was behind some kind of magical shield. And when it saw me it walked up to the shield, tapped it with a paw, and said 'meow'."

It was Sten's turn to look confused. "Is that not what cats are supposed to say?"

Alistair shrugged.

"You don't understand, mio amico grande. It said 'meow' the same way I just did."

Sten's eyes narrowed. "That is not what cats are supposed to say."

"My thoughts exactly."

"So," Alistair continued, "we stood there and stared at it for a moment, and then I swear the cat shrugged."

"Shrugged?"

"And then there was a little burst of light, like the Veil tearing, and the cat just fell over. Dead, I think. The shield's still there though."

Sten's eyes narrowed even further. "So there is a dead cat behind a magical shield?"

Alistair and Zevran looked at each other and confirmed their story. "Yes."

Sten relaxed. "Then I see no need to trouble ourselves. Unless someone else does?" He looked around at all of us. "Good. Then let us rest, and be off in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

We holed up in an inn and had the pleasure of being able to scavenge some decent food and throw together a good meal. I was actually enjoying myself; I like to cook, and spent my time more-or-less contentedly puttering around and making a helpful nuisance of myself. But I did overhear this conversation:

_Slap, whap, thump!_

"Mio amico, it pains me to see you handle the dough that way."

Alistair kept grimly slapping the bread dough around like it was a hurlock. "And how do you know so much about bread-making?"

Zevran shrugged and folded his own dough with gentle hands. "I am a Crow, after all."

"You know, you use that excuse whenever you don't want to talk about whatever we ask you about."

Zevran grinned. "Let me just say I once had cause to be baker."

Alistair opened his mouth and closed it again. "I don't even wanna know." He went back to assaulting the dough.

Zevran's grin turned into a wince. "Ah! Mio amico, kneading bread is much like pleasuring a woman. There are times to be vigorous, but one should usually be firm, but gentle."

Alistair redoubled his efforts in an effort to hide his blushing. Not that the flour coating he had wasn't already doing a good job.

"I see! Well, mio amico, perhaps I can offer some-"

Leliana called from where she was checking her bow. "Zevran! Do not tease him so!"

"I was merely offering our friend some advice. Advice which you may end up appreciating."

Leliana stood and placed her hands on her hips. "Alistair needs no advice."

Zevran's eyebrow disappeared into his hairline. "Ooh?"

"Leliana, no!"

Leliana gave Alistair a radiant smile. "Let us just say a certain bella rosa appreciates his unskilled but enthusiastic approach. And not only in breadmaking."

Zevran grinned, Alistair fled, and I got back to cooking.

* * *

><p><em>AN: my apologies to all you who've been waiting impatiently for this update, and my thanks to all of you who've been patiently waiting. Life, sometimes, is not an orderly process, but rather a series of crises through which one lurches. And that's what the last month felt like to me. Without going into details, I've had to deal with the holidays, getting the younger spawn safely to his first duty station, a week-long cross-country trip, several tense scenarios at work, and putting the old Outback to sleep. I was coming home, plopping down in front of the computer, and just staring blearily at the screen. Writing ended up being a chore rather than a means of relaxing; I was struggling to get down even a couple dozen words at a time. And after I got in that state it was easier to not write rather than to write._

_So with everything that triggered it probably resolved I guess the question you're asking is, "Is the writer's block gone?" My short answer is, "Probably." The longer answer is, "I think so. But I'm trying to spin back up slowly rather than force myself to crank out a few thousand words per week." I do have the ideas in my head; I just need to turn them in to electrons._

_The head canon I'd developed regarding mages and the Fade came into play during the previous couple of updates. Mages have to undergo the Harrowing, but what happens if they don't? Why wouldn't they? What is it about the Harrowing that makes Templars, if not trust, at least be accepting of a mage? Why don't young, pre-Harrowed mages have to worry about demonic possession? (Or do they?) What was it about Connor's situation that made him susceptible to possession?_

_For those of you expecting Shale to make an appearance this chapter it seems I've disappointed you._ [MINOR SPOILER] _Don't fret, though; Shale will show up at a future time._


	87. Bits and Pieces

**7 Firstfall, morning**

My brothers and I climbed the stairs and emerged into the cold, sharp air that tingled against my skin. I shivered from reflex and sniffed the air. I could smell…things…, some of which sharpened my hunger, but it wasn't time to eat. I hefted my sword, shivered again, and followed my brothers down the sloped road under sparkling darkness.

We eased our way towards the surface caves, staying downwind and smelling, faintly, the smells of otherness. My stomach rumbled with the promise of food, but the master said _patience_ and kept me focused. I was sent silently forward towards the caves and then told to _wait_. I did.

The smell of fresh meat wafted towards me again, but I kept waiting. My brothers moved about me and settled into their own hiding spots. I could feel their hunger as well, but the master was pleased, and that was more important than being fed. So I waited.

_Now._

My brothers and I leapt from our hiding spots and ran at the surface caves. Our hunger would soon be satisfied, but first we had to find our food. I hefted my sword as I rushed towards the dwelling. A few more steps and I sat straight up in my bed with my heart pounding so hard it made my ears ring.

"Oy."

It wasn't the worst of the darkspawn dreams that I've had, but its immediacy came with the promise of being a bad one. I reached out and found my sword; just gripping it dropped my blood pressure. I didn't need to relax; I just let my senses open up. Nothing. No darkspawn, at least no close ones. Just Alistair, Neria, and Cullen.

But I hopped out of the bed and pulled on my coat and dragged my happy ass out to the guard point. Sten was standing in a shadow like a living golem; Alistair was walking the perimeter.

If Sten acknowledged my presence he didn't show it until I asked if things were okay.

"All is well."

"Good." I let out a breath and looked up at the sky. Not sure what time it was but the galactic band was glowing. I watched it silently for a moment while feeling for darkspawn.

"I would speak with you."

"All right."

Sten was quiet for a bit longer than I expected but eventually answered. "Our mission is to collect allies to combat the blight. A golem would be – would have been a formidable ally. It is unfortunate this one is elsewhere."

"I agree."

"I was concerned our time would be wasted. It was."

I waited a few seconds then said, "There's a 'but' in there somewhere."

Sten waited a few more seconds then answered, "But had we found the golem this time would have been well spent. I was perturbed at first, but understand the need for this diversion."

I needed a few more seconds. "Okay. Well, thanks for being understanding."

I'm pretty sure Sten nodded. "Be aware that time is growing short. If Alistair is correct and the darkspawn begin moving in the spring then we have little more time to waste."

"I understand."

"Good. Now let us hope your next hunch is an accurate one."

* * *

><p>Neria crossed her arms and glared at the stuck-open doors to the Deep Roads entrance. "Shit! You know, if Wynne was here she could do this no problem. She's good with stone."<p>

Despite jumping at the occasional rat we'd spent a relatively pleasant night in Honnleath. We'd restocked our supplies yesterday, so when it was light enough to see we popped up, packed up, and moved out. (I found something interesting, but more on that later.) The climb back into the hills was easier than the descent; if we slipped (and we did) at least we just ended up on our hands and knees rather rolling down the hill. So we took it easy and took our time, and eventually reached the Deep Roads entrance. Still no sign of (fresh) darkspawn, but we weren't complaining. We were (and are), however, worried about more darkspawn coming up behind us so we stopped and tried to block off the entrance.

Unsuccessfully.

And then the Templars showed up. Uneventfully. They looked pretty beat; cold, tired, hungry, and they eyed our fed and rested selves in with a combination of hostility and envy. The youngest even looked longingly down the hill at Honnleath, no doubt dreaming of a hot meal and a warm bed. Another one involuntarily glanced back up the hill they'd just walked down.

The Templars' leader didn't notice; the older fellow with streaks of grey in his brown hair addressed us tiredly but with the expectation of deference. "Mage-"

Neria didn't give him a second syllable. "Warden!" She went back to poking at the door.

The Templars shifted before the leader tried again. "M-"

I fielded that one. "Warden." I felt Alistair moving up beside me and heard the others easing into position. "Unless you'd rather make something of it."

One of the Templars opened his mouth but the leader answered a little faster. "Very well. Warden."

"Now see? That wasn't so hard." I could feel the smirk dripping out of Alistair's voice.

The Templar frowned but kept going. "What are your plans?"

Neria called from the door. "We're going into the Deep Roads. Quickest way to where we're going."

First I'd heard of that, but I kept a good poker face up. The rest of the bunch did too.

The Templars reacted though. All of them tensed up and the young one turned pale. The leader frowned so hard his lips turned pale.

Neria kept going. "You're welcome to join us," she added lightly.

"But…your…pack horse."

I shrugged at the Templar. "Bill's really calm and _very_ surefooted. He'll be fine as long as the oats don't run out."

"So were you going to join us?" Neria pressed.

The leader's frown got stronger.

"You could," Leliana said as she waved a hand towards Honnleath, "rest in the town. It is safe, if lonely."

"And what do we tell the Revered Mother?"

"Tell her we have entered the Deep Roads."

"It's a good idea, lieutenant," one of the older Templars added.

The lieutenant looked down the hill, back at us, and down the hill again. I'm pretty sure he was swearing at us inside his head. Then he jerked said head, said, "Come on!" and started down the road.

"Maker watch over you, brothers," Leliana said quietly and, I think, sincerely.

The Templars showed remarkable restraint by not flipping us off. We watched them until a turn took them out of sight.

Alistair spoke first. "That young fellow could have been me." He shuddered, then turned to Neria.

She had a real and pretty smile on her face. "That way," she said and pointed up the hill. "It's gonna take more than a few Templars and some bad weather to get me back down there."

* * *

><p><strong>8 Firstfall, morning<strong>

I said hi to Thing and got a hissed greeting in return.

"Yeah, about that. I might have a solution to the communications problem."

Thing hissed again.

"Here," I answered, "let's try this."

I'd been thinking about 'this' for a while. There was a TNG-style communicator badge in my hand; I held it up for Thing to examine.

[curious hiss]

"Don't worry; I promise it won't hurt." I turned it over and peeled the cover from the tape on the back.

Thing hissed and backed away slightly.

I'd stepped forward and tried to stick it on to Thing. "Sorry." I pantomimed attaching the badge to his carapace; Thing needed a minute but got the idea. I attached the badge and tapped its corner. The badge responded with a nice early-90s' electronic chirp.

[slightly startled hiss]

At the same time Majel Barret's smooth voice quietly said, " Yq5 5y3 y3oo 8w 5y8w:"

"Hmm." I tapped the badge again and was rewarded with another chirp. "Computer: translate to English."

"Unable to comply."

I rubbed my eyes. "Hmph. Fuck you."

"Unable to comply."

"Smartass."

[confused hiss]

" yq5 8w 5yq5 5y8ht w7009w3e 59 e9:"

Sigh. "We'll try again later." I lifted a box. "Chess?"

[grumpy hiss]

"^97 ih92 * yq53 5yq5 tqj3l"

* * *

><p><strong>9 Firstfall, evening<strong>

Regarding that interesting item I found in Honnleath:

Zevran looked up from his dinner with an enigmatic smile on his face. "Interesting, mio amico. What say we forget about the Blight and settle in Rivain? We would make a fortune selling this dish."

Oghren looked up from mopping his bowl with a crust of bread. "You know what would go good with this? Onion rings."

I shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Didn't have any month-old grease laying around."

"S'all right. But forget the elf. Come back to Orzammar and we'll get rich there. It's a lot closer." He held out his empty bowl. "Fill it up!"

I nodded at the stewpot. "Help yourself."

Sten looked, for lack of a better word, content. "How is it you know how to cook with these fruits?"

Another shrug. "We have similar ones at home. I take you like it?"

"The spices are not balanced, but the dish is…satisfying." He added more to his own bowl. "It is reminiscent of similar stews in Par Vollen."

Alistair stared at me with watery eyes and a runny nose. "It'll keep me warm at least. Woo," he panted.

Leliana's forehead was sweating. "It _is_ strongly spiced. A lighter hand might have been prudent."

I thought I had gone light on the peppers.

"I think our amico struck the right balance," Zevran interjected. "Heavy to satisfy the body, rich to satisfy the soul, and hot on the tongue to inflame one's passions."

Alistair belched.

Morrigan spoke from her shadow. "'Tis better than much of what Mother made." But then she was only picking at hers.

Alistair belched again.

Neria was only picking at her bowl as well. Cullen was alternating between rubbing his head on the ground and begging for scraps from her bowl. It was too late to warn her about the effects the makeshift chili would have on the Mabari's digestive tract.

* * *

><p><strong>11 Firstfall, evening<strong>

We definitely made slower time getting back to Redcliffe, although the snow wasn't too bad. At least we didn't have to deal with ice cold rain and the mud that would come with it. I actually kind of feel sorry for the Templars we left behind us.

So back into Redcliffe. Through the town, past the Chantry yet again, and a stop to pick up more supplies. And information. There was a small herd of dwarves looking for us. And, rather sensibly on their part, they chose not to follow us to Honnleath but instead sat and waited for us to come back through here. Good thing we didn't take the Deep Roads.

But here's the interesting part. They claim to be the First Cohort of the Legion of Hunters. It's the first Oghren's heard of that bunch, and they're all primarily armed with crossbows. They've also got some humans and elves with them to teach them how to be hunters. I think it's pretty obvious how they decided on that, but what was more interesting was why:

_To Retired Serjant First Class Jefree *****, United States Army_

_Serjant,_

_I had hoped to speak to you before your departure but was prevented from doing so. With that, I hope this missive finds you, the Wardens, and your cohort to be well, and wish you congratulations on your return from the Deep Roads._

_The matter we discussed before your departure for the Deep Roads struck a strong vein. I wished to show you the progress and speak more fully, but suppose I must now be satisfied with the successes at hand._

_You probably now know that our Houses petitioned to raise the Legion of Hunters. We were afraid it would be denied, but soon after King Bandelore promised to stand an army for the Wardens the petition was granted. The dwarves who brought you this message are of the First Cohort and proud to be so. They know change is coming to Orzammar. Their path is brightly lit and they feel they are walking on solid stone._

_Change comes to me as well, but my path is not as bright or as sure. But when the dwarven army is called to the surface I will be with it. Look for me. We will drink and speak of many things._

_[runes] atrast tunsha_

_Joastin, smith of House Hagen_

I wrote a short reply that basically said, "Good to hear, and I'm looking to forward to seeing you again." I passed that note off to the dwarf who'd given me Joastin's letter, grabbed a fresh drink, and dodged a dwarven woman who thinks my stubble is cute.

Time for go to bed.

* * *

><p><strong>12 Firstfall, morning<strong>

"Hey, you! Sergeant!" The speaker was a dwarf with a jet-black beard and a cueball head. Interesting juxtaposition, although it looked pretty badass with the small armory of light weapons the guy had strapped in a bandoleer across his leathers.

I looked up from where I was, of course, scribbling in the diary.

An eye rolled as he took in the book. "Ah! So that's why Oghren calls you shaper."

I put down my pen. "Yeah."

"So you were there when the little miss crowned Bandelore?"

"She picked him, but…yeah."

"And good on her. And when the Paragon crowned Bhelen." Snort. "Wish I'd been there for that. Blighter really had it coming."

"Yeah, I suppose he did."

"Yeah, about that." The dwarf leaned in close. "Listen, I already passed word to the rest of your cohort, but House Aeducan's – well, what's left of 'em – is looking for you."

My pen froze. "Why?"

"Why do you think?" Another snort. "Are all you surfacers really this stupid? No wonder you get all bent over every time you come into Orzammar." He shook his head. "Listen. The Hunters know what you did for Orzammar, and all of us have the honor of being in the First Cohort. We'll watch the shadows for you. So will a lot of the other Legions. But the Aeducans – well, they want to even the score, if you know what I mean."

I did and just nodded.

That got me a grin. "Oghren said you were smart. Good. You brought some fresh air to Orzammar, and the Hunters honor you for that." He reached out and patted the journal. "Now shape some memories. And get my name right when you do; it's Twelveblade."

* * *

><p><strong>Later morning<strong>

"Mage-"

"Warden," we all said at the same time.

The Templar narrowed his eyes and actually snarled. We just went into that relaxed state that meant we were more than ready to roll right through these guys. Well, three guys and a girl.

"Mage," the Templar repeated.

"Let's go," Neria said.

She deliberately turned her back on the Templar and started walking. The Templars shifted, but so did we. One of them actually raised his fist in the motion that meant a smite was coming, although both mages were too far away.

"Don't," I snapped, "or there won't be enough of you left to fill your boots."

The Templar actually reached for his sword. "Is that what you've done to Ser Kendrick and his charges?"

We froze and after a beat actually started laughing. Even Neria stopped and joined in.

"Brothers," Leliana said as she eased off her bow, "Ser Kendrick and his charges tired of chasing us. We left them to rest in Honnleath; they are at least a day's travel behind us."

"That's right," Alistair said brightly.

I shrugged and nodded easily as the Templars' eyes crossed over me.

The leader locked eyes with Neria. "How are we to believe you?"

Neria shrugged. "Believe us or not, but it's true. And follow us if you want, but we're leaving. Let's go." She turned back around and started walking.

Sten and I walked backwards for a while, but the Templars just watched. They definitely weren't geared for a trip. We kept eyes on until we reached the road that climbed out of town then the leader turned his group around. Guess we'll see if they follow us.

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

So, finally, east out of Redcliffe. We climbed the hills that led out of town and ended up on the highway. It's in pretty good shape and we're making very good time. Of course, there's icy and snowy patches but that's not a big deal; we're either bypassing or just pushing through as needed.

Aside from Sten no one's really upset about the side trip to Honnleath. We got to spend a week without being harassed by anyone or anything (except the weather) and basically spent the time relaxing. Maybe that was that week off we needed.

But the road now has sobered us up again. Despite the months passed there's still signs of the fighting: the occasional corpse, abandoned weapons and equipment, empty buildings, burned-out pyres for both people and darkspawn. Everybody else has that same look of grim determination we had on the way into the Deep Roads; I assume I've got it too.

Maybe it's tinged with resignation.

Either way, we're going in.

* * *

><p><strong>13 Firstfall, morning<strong>

"I have not encountered you in the Fade recently." Morrigan's expression was, as usual guardedly neutral.

Pretty sure mine wasn't. "I've been staying in the bubble since, well, you know."

"I do know. And yet again your actions confound me. When not safe to do so you explore, but now that a dangerous obstacle has been removed to you choose to – how do you put it? – hunker down."

Good point. I shrugged. "Maybe I feel like my flank's secure enough so I can hunker down."

Morrigan tilted her head.

"And I'm trying to figure out Thing." I explained the universal translator. And the trouble I'm having with it.

And not in simple terms. Morrigan's smart, and treating her as dumb rather than ignorant is a good way to make your head asplode. She got it quick. "An interesting concept. But if, as you say, the translator needs a common ground upon which to base its translations, could it be the translator simply has not enough information with which to base those translations?"

I thought about that for a quarter second then nodded thoughtfully. "Good point."

"Then continue your studies with Ser Thing. Perhaps they will bear fruit." Ever so slightly, Morrigan smirked. Or maybe it's her smile. Not sure which. "Still, tread carefully."

* * *

><p><strong>14 Firstfall, afternoon<strong>

Three stone markers on the side of the road: one each for Redcliffe, Lothering, Tenby. All have arrows pointing in the appropriate direction. The roads from Redcliffe and Tenby show signs of infrequent travel; the road to Lothering doesn't look like anyone's come through, in either direction, in months.

Leliana and Neria stood at the edge of the untouched road and had a quiet conversation. They eventually embraced and parted; Leliana gave me a wan smile as she went back to the others. Neria just stood staring down the road to the east.

At least until I crunched up behind her. "You okay?"

Neria nodded without looking back. "Yeah, I'm okay. Leliana, though…."

"Afraid of what we'll find in Lothering?"

"Exactly."

"Yeah, I understand."

Neria nodded again. "So what will we find in Lothering?"

Good question. "Just a burned-out town if we're lucky. A darkspawn nest if we're not. Probably something in between."

Neria kept nodding. "Anything useful?"

I have no idea what kind of looting the darkspawn would've done, but I doubt they'd been subtle about it. "Nothing I can think of."

More nodding. "I didn't think so either. But Leliana wants to at least see the place." The nodding stopped. "We'll do it from a distance."

"Sounds good." I turned to go get the others.

"Jeffrey, wait."

I did.

"Morrigan said you said there's no darkspawn where you come from."

"That's right. We have other problems, but no darkspawn."

"If…we make through this-"

"We will."

"-and if you find a way home do you think I could go with you?"

That raised my eyebrows.

Neria squared up her shoulders. "I don't know if I can stay here anymore."

"I understand, but don't know that you could. Come home with me, that is."

Neria's shoulders drooped.

"But if there's a way…sure." I gave her a crooked smile. "I'd love to have you." I'll figure out a way to explain her to the family if that ever happens.

Neria's shoulders came back up. "Thank you." Warden face and a shout. "Let's move out, you sods!"

* * *

><p><strong>15 Firstfall, evening<strong>

We were in our standard formation: Alistair and I in the middle with Sten and Oghren to our left and right. (Alistair's either a trusting soul or he's smart enough to keep Oghren in sight. The little shit's almost as dangerous to us when he starts twirling his axe. Sten is much more disciplined.) We were watching Zevran ease up to a farmhouse in which we could feel plenty of darkspawn; we didn't want that particular building for shelter, but the small barn was clear and the wind was (and still is) blowing hard enough that we wanted that shelter without having to worry about bad guys.

The building was just close enough that I could feel the pressure of the darkspawn in my head; kinda like a sinus headache that didn't hurt. I wasn't positive about what direction they were, but there was only one place they could be, so while we set up I kept turning my head back and forth to get a feel for direction. Neria gave me a playful scolding; she pointed confidently at the building and said, "There's a lot of them."

Alistair, OTOH, was fairing like me. Despite his extra experience he could only barely sense the darkspawn from the distance we were keeping. So we knelt, watched Zevran, and waited.

Zevran gave the farmhouse door a good yank. The door fell off its hinges; Zevran immediately got clear at right angles. About three seconds later a hurlock appeared at the door and snarled at the wind. As it did it lifted its head as if sniffing the air and even looked roughly in our direction. Then it dived back into the house as Neria's fireball arced in and exploded against the siding.

Wind must have got it.

"Maker!" Neria swore.

I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me and the screams of darkspawn in front. A handful of monsters rushed out of the smoldering house as a fireball curved gracefully through the door. The explosion backlit darkspawn in the house but I didn't bother with a count. One last darkspawn did make it out, though; Zevran casually jogged up behind it and cut its throat.

The remaining darkspawn rushed us slowly through the snow. I thought they were coming for me but as they got closer I realized Alistair was the target. Leliana dropped a couple, Morrigan's runes burst, and the heavies came off our line. We collided with the darkspawn and overwhelmed them with the weight and protection of our armor and weapons. It was over in a minute.

As the darkspawn died I felt the _pops_ in the back of my head as they disappeared from my personal minimap. And then the last one died and the pressure of their presence was simply gone. Still, we did a sweep of the immediate area, satisfied ourselves that there was no immediate danger, and moved into the relatively clean (and unburned) barn to crash for the night.

"I have to admit," Alistair said later, "having another Warden to pull guard is nice."

I was stationing myself for the first watch. "Three shifts instead of two. More sleep for everybody that way."

"Right. Uhm, can I ask your thoughts on something?"

"They're called glasses and they help me see better."

Alistair didn't even twitch at the tired joke. "When the darkspawn rushed us today did it seem like they were all coming after me?"

"Yeah. I thought they were coming after both of us, but when they got close – yeah, it looked like they were after you."

"And then yesterday; that little bunch we took down. It was the same then, right?"

I thought about that for a couple of seconds. "Yeah. Seemed like it."

Even in the dim light Alistair looked troubled. "Why would that be?"

I thought about that for a minute. "I've gotta couple ideas."

"Let me hear them."

"You're the senior Warden; maybe they picked up on that somehow. Or maybe they're smart enough to recognize you as the bigger threat."

Alistair's head shook. "I don't think you really believe that."

I sighed and brought up what I didn't think Alistair wanted to hear. "You're right, but the only other thing I can think of is Avernus' potion. That's the main difference between you and me and Neria."

Alistair sighed. "That's what I thought. Thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>16 Firstfall, afternoon<strong>

Lothering's in better shape than I expected it to be. From our vantage point west of the town we can see some burned out areas but overall it's surprisingly intact. Make that 'looks surprisingly intact.' Maybe my expectations were too modern. What's not surprising is, from what we can see, it's a ghost town as well. But I have no doubt that if we go into town we'll find a lot more darkspawn than we want to handle.

"The Chantry," Leliana said somberly, "it is still standing."

Morrigan opened her mouth but I'd already caught her eye. I shook my head at her; she closed her mouth and squeezed her lips tight in a small frown. I gave her a nod and looked toward the Chantry myself. Somewhere beyond that the Outback was hidden. I'm not sure if I want to find it; I'm positive it's no good to me right now. Or is that no good for me? I don't know, but dwelling on it is only making my mood worse.

"Leliana, I'm sorry," Neria said quietly, "but we need to get moving."

Red took a deep breath. "I know. I am ready." She turned away from the view and moved to take point with Alistair. The pair turned southeast and took a path intended to cut off the corner Lothering defines.

I watched her go with a bit of longing. Before the Deep Roads she would have come to me to talk things out. Now she's talking with Alistair instead. I think I said before I want to be jealous, but instead I feel a bit lonely. Not that I should be jealous; if they're making each other happy then shouldn't I be happy for them? And given the way things are likely to end up don't they deserve it? Don't we all deserve it?

You know, I'm gonna try get someone a happy ending out of all this even if I have to crawl out through the fourth wall and write it myself.

* * *

><p><strong>17 Firstfall, morning<strong>

I needed a boost. A pick-me-up. A mood enhancer.

A sugar rush.

I dug out the last unopened packet from the MRE. I knew there was a cake or a cookie or something like that in there, and the homesickness I was feeling made me just wanna tear the packet and shove whatever was in it into my face and dissolve into the bliss of a sweet treat.

So I did. Tear the packet open. And then I froze because I'd found what I was hoping to find.

The aroma that I thought I'd never smell again wafted out of the pouch. The warm, sweet and savory, and smooth yet earthy aroma of a chocolate chip brownie escaped from where it'd been trapped since the foil was sealed.

I slobbered. I slurped. I drooled. I opened my mouth.

And I froze because I saw Sten looking at me.

Sigh.

I couldn't cut the big guy's sweet tooth off. Especially not with something like this.

And then ding. Sten knows what chiles are; maybe he knows about chocolate.

But he had another question. "What is that?"

"A chocolate brownie," I said wetly.

"No. The packet you opened. Is that a ration from your…what did you call? 'Mystery'?"

I choked back a laugh.

"What is amusing?"

"We call them mysteries, too."

"I do not understand."

"Meal," I said, "Ready to Eat. Em-are-ee for short. We have a title called mister that's written as em-are, and then the ee makes it Mister…E. Mystery."

Sten cocked his head. "Because it is a mystery as to what food will be in it?"

"Because it's a mystery if it'll be edible or not."

"You were given inedible food?"

I snorted again. Then I explained – broadly – why and how MREs exist. And what soldiers have to say about them.

The head uncocked. "Your army goes to great lengths to provide perfectly edible rations that its soldiers then disparage?"

"You don't know the half of it."

Sten inclined his head. "Then our armies – and their soldiers – are more alike than I had come to believe."

"I think soldiers are pretty much the same no matter what army they're in."

"No. They are not."

Beat. "Anyway…." I held up the packet with its untouched brownie. "Wanna try a bite?"

"What is it?"

"The dessert."

Sten's mouth twitched. I think he was drooling. "I would be…honored…if you were to share it."

I held out the packet. Sten reached and delicately broke off a corner of the brownie; I did the same.

I raised my chunk in a mock toast. "L'chaim."

Sten unceremoniously popped his chunk into his mouth; I did the same. Sten looked confused then unpleasantly surprised; I did the same. Sten looked skeptically at the remaining brownie; I did the same.

Sten spoke first. "I find this…confection…to be chalky and unpleasant."

My thoughts exactly.

"Although," Sten continued, "the…flavor…I assume it was intended to have is – would have been - unique and interesting. And to answer your answer your question: no, I am not familiar with it."

I was trying to get the taste of under-seasoned and poorly executed brownie off my tongue. "Don't suppose you want more?"

"No." Sten turned away.

Nobody else wanted a second bite, either.

Not that I blame them. The brownie was pretty nasty, although the chocolate chips were a hit after I dug them out. But problem solved; at least for the moment I'm not homesick. Actually, I'm kinda pissed off about home. They've been making MREs for thirty years now and even the first generation had good cakes. I don't know who made that brownie and I don't know if that's how they made every batch or if mine was just an unlucky draw, but I have this to say to them:

Fuck you.

* * *

><p><strong>18 Firstfall, morning<strong>

"…first Flemeth, then Ostagar," Neria finished firmly. "Finish eating then gear up."

Morrigan nodded to Neria then turned and walked away. Sten dug into the remnants of his breakfast. Zevran looked thoughtful but remained silent. Leliana caught my eye; I shrugged back. Alistair looked freaked. Oghren just took a drink.

Neria turned and headed for her own tent; I jumped up and chased her down. She didn't turn around as I got close. "What?"

"This is a Bad Idea," I said. I made sure Neria could hear the capitals. "We're talking about Flemeth."

Neria kept walking. "I've met Flemeth. I'm not that worried about-"

"I am! This is _Flemeth_ we're talking about. You've heard the stories about her. Sten's heard the stories about her. And before I got here – before I even left home - I heard stories about her. Don't you think-"

Neria shook her head. "Morrigan wouldn't send us-"

"Morrigan has her own agenda."

Neria jerked to a halt. "I know. But Morrigan trusted me enough to tell me about Flemeth, and her plans, and I trust Morrigan." Her face clouded over. "Don't you?"

I needed a few seconds to get my thoughts in order.

Neria's face grew darker. "Don't you start with Morrigan; it took long enough to get her and Alistair to get along."

I shook my head. "I have no – well, almost no – problem with Morrigan, and I…more-or-less trust her, but the only thing I really trust her to do is look after herself. No, wait; not herself. Her goals."

Neria was clearly angry by now. "Are you saying we can't trust Morrigan?"

"No. We can trust her. But as soon as her goals don't line up with ours she'll go her own way."

"And what does that mean?"

"This is Morrigan we're talking about. She's learned how to play nice with us, but sending us after Flemeth…? It's a Bad Idea."

"Is it a 'get people killed' bad idea?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Neria set her jaw and stared defiantly at me. "I've already promised Morrigan we'd go after Flemeth."

I stared back. I'm pretty sure my eyes were communicating just how I felt. "Think about it. We don't have to make a final decision until we get face-to-face with Flemeth. Just…think about it."

Neria huffed. "Fine. Now go gear up."

* * *

><p><strong>19 Firstfall, noon<strong>

"Stop," I said as I pointed. "I know I've seen that tree at least twice now."

Alistair staggered to a halt and took a look at the tree. "Are you sure?"

"Postive." The combination of bark, moss, and snow formed a reasonably identifiable caricature of Alfred Hitchcock.

"It is a distinctive mark," Sten grumbled.

"It is," Zevran added. "Perhaps we should be paying closer attention to our route."

"I have been," Alistair responded.

Sten narrowed his eyes. "Then which direction are we to take?"

Alistair took a look at the map Morrigan had sketched out for us, looked around at the forest, back at the map, and up again. "That way."

"I would like a second opinion."

Alistair narrowed his eyes but answered, "Fine."

I ended up with the map. It took me a minute to come up with the same answer. "Zevran, your turn."

The elf needed a minute, but he confirmed Alistair's and my assessments of the situation.

Sten opened his.

"No, Sten," Neria snapped. She thumped Oghren's helmet with the butt of her staff. "Let's go! Put it away!"

Cullen stepped up to mark the spot Oghren had peed on but ended up dodging a kick. "Leave it alone, you stonelicker!"

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon<strong>

We've definitely been going around in a circle but we can't figure out why. I know how to navigate in the woods; Alistair and Zevran do, too. We blazed trees as we moved and deliberately zig-zagged along our path, but we still ended up back at the Hitchcock tree. And a little bit after that we found a tree we'd marked. Even Cullen's confused; he trotted up to a tree, sniffed it, and twitched his ears before not peeing on it.

So I guess the question is 'What's causing the problem?' I know we aren't that lost and/or stupid, so either the forest's warped or our perception is. Or both. Seems Flemeth has a longer reach than I thought she did. Or expected. Or something.

Someone or something's coming. Gotta go.

* * *

><p>That something turned out to be a young boy; maybe ten or so. Skinny, but not starving. Clothing worn, but not tatters. He simply walked up and took us in with big brown eyes. Especially Sten, Zevran, and Oghren. We stared back at him, not sure if we should have weapons out or not.<p>

Except for Oghren. "Boy, you all right?"

The child started slightly and jerked his eyes away from Sten. "I am, ser." He looked around the group and eventually found Neria. "Ser, are you the Warden?"

Neria actually gave him a little smile. "I am."

The boy smiled a relieved smile back. "Good. Grandmother says she's ready for you to come visit."

* * *

><p><em>AN: you'll be pleased to know the writer's block is resolving, but not so pleased to know I'm taking on a second project right now. The Phoenix ComiCon is coming up in June and I'm working on a set of N7 armor. And if I wrap that up in time I'm going to follow through with a M8 assault rifle. And the time I spend doing that is time I won't be able to spend writing._

_Going back to the questions I asked regarding mages in the last chapter's notes: if you think of the Fade as an ocean and mages as swimmers then you'll have an idea of where I think Bioware's coming from. Or at least where my head canon is coming from. Children who just discover their power are able to tap the Fade, but, to continue the analogy, only just get their feet wet. As they refine their connection with the Fade they find themselves in deeper waters. And in those waters they start encountering predators. So even non-Harrowed mages will eventually have to deal with demons and other dangers of the Fade; the Tower ritual is the equivalent of throwing them into deep water and seeing if they can swim back safely. But, as we saw with Connor's canon, not all the predators confine themselves to the deep waters._


	88. Some Things Explained

**19 Firstfall, evening**

The boy led us over a couple of low rises, asking us excited questions the whole way ("What are you?" "Are you really from Orzammar?" "Have you killed many darkspawn) when Alistair and Neria both suddenly stopped and, together, said, "That's it!"

They pointed down a shallow slope at a ramshackle assortment of hides, scrap wood, logs, and sticks held together with mud and straw. It would probably fall over in a strong breeze. Or at least that's the way it looks; I have no doubt the hovel could take a hit from a tank round.

The boy stopped chattering and broke into a sprint. As he got to the hut he shouted, "Grandmother! They're here!"

A pile of rags stood up from next to a tree stump. It was too far away to see clearly, but _that voice_ carried clearly up the hill to us. "I can see that. But my thanks, Brianduin."

Mayhew had his priorities straight. "Can I have my cookie?"

A pale finger poked out of the rags and shook gently. "Manners, child."

The boy's shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry." The shoulders went back up. "You're welcome, grandmother."

"Much better." There was a timbre of pleasant indulgence in the woman's voice. "And, yes, you may have your cookie. Two, in fact, and take two for your brother. He is playing by the fish pool."

"Thank you, grandmother!"

"You are welcome. Now go."

Brian hopped over to the stump and retrieved his cookies then scurried off yelling for someone named Carny.

Flemeth flinched then turned to us. "I cannot abide him calling him that, but that is one bad habit I am not likely to break." She looked down. "It is good to see that some remember the old customs."

Cullen had chased Brian down the hill, but when Flemeth appeared, he literally skidded to a stop and sat at perfectly still attention a respectful distance from her. Flemeth stepped carefully towards him; when she got within arm's reach Cullen threw himself on the ground and splayed out. Not his standard 'ooh, please rub my belly' pose, but instead one of pure submission. All four legs were as spread-eagled as he could manage, and head was pushed out and back so as to stretch out and completely bare his neck.

Flemeth knelt gracefully, if a bit shakily, and reached out a hand. The fingers curled like talons and she reached for Cullen's throat.

"A-" Neria started.

Flemeth didn't look up, but the clawed hand instantly morphed into a shaken finger. "Patience, young Warden." The hand curled again; I hoped I imagined the claws instead of fingernails.

Flemeth's hand touched Cullen's throat and the fingertips only just pressed against his coat. Cullen shivered slightly and sighed. Flemeth pulled her hand back and stood up.

Cullen immediately flipped over and hopped to his feet. [questioning whine]

"Yes, you may." Flemeth retrieved a cookie from the plate on the stump and held it out for the Mabari.

Cullen reached out and daintily took the edge of the cookie. When Flemeth released it he tossed it back and crunched delicately.

[soft yip]

"You are welcome. Now go play with the boys; I have things to discuss with your master."

[happy bark] Cullen took off around the hut.

"A-" Neria started.

"Patience, young Warden," Flemeth interrupted, although with a bit more emphasis on the word. And a touch of amusement. She looked at Alistair. His mouth was hanging open. "And you as well." She looked over the rest of us and settled on Zevran. When Flemeth spoke again she sibilantly hissed out elvish words.

Zevran bowed. "Elf I am, and some time with the Dalish I have spent, but my elvish is poor. Mi scusi, senora."

Flemeth nodded back and spoke in Antivan. Zevran bowed again then she and the elf had a very quick conversation; the only other person who seemed to follow it was Leliana. And she was up next. Flemeth went directly into conversation with the Orlesian in Orlesian; Zevran followed with polite disinterest. But, once the talks were done, both bard and elf looked a bit nervous.

Flemeth looked at the helmeted Oghren. [dwarvish]

Oghren bowed as best he could in his armor then removed his helmet. He bowed again and replied in dwarvish. Another brief conversation was followed by Oghren shrugging and Flemeth laughing. Oghren added something else; Flemeth laughed even harder. Then the dwarf plopped his helmet back on and went back to leaning on his axe.

I don't know why I was surprised when Flemeth used Qunlat to speak to Sten. If Sten was surprised he didn't show it. But he did acknowledge the witch with a tiny nod and simply stared impassively at her as he answered.

"Now that the pleasantries are finished," Flemeth finally said, "I would speak with the Wardens." She smiled predatorily. "Privately."

She hadn't said anything to me yet; I was thinking 'what about me?'

And then Flemeth looked at me. "_All_ of you."

My mouth went bone dry.

* * *

><p>There was the lightless flash of a Veil tear as we walked into the hut. I stumbled slightly, but recovered immediately and found myself alone with Flemeth.<p>

"So, do you have something for me?"

I was too busy looking around the room to answer. Neria had walked in in front of me; Alistair was right behind me. They were nowhere in sight. My mouth opened.

Flemeth smiled. "I did say I wanted to speak with you privately. I believe this is as private as can be."

I shivered.

Flemeth laughed. "Do I frighten you?"

My mouth wasn't wet enough to answer so I nodded carefully before croaking, "Yes."

The smile widened. "You are honest, at least in some things."

I swallowed and cleared my throat. "You don't seem like the type to put up with dishonesty."

Somehow the smile widened further. "And you would be correct." The smile dropped. "Now, do you have something for me?"

Oy. I opened my mouth, snapped it closed, and facepalmed. "I…forgot it."

Flemeth's eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened. I thought I was a dead man until the scowl erupted in a shout of laughter. To be honest, it wasn't that bad a sound, but I stood there and shook and took in the surrealness of it all while Flemeth cackled.

She needed a moment to recover and I let her have it.

Flemeth finally ran down. "Oh, Fadewalker-"

I shivered at the title.

Flemeth paused for an instant. "-do not be frightened of me. There are many things more deserving of your fear."

I nodded. "I think I've met a few."

"And yet you are unscathed." She spryly jumped forward and a cold eye bore into me. "Mostly. But you have done well – well, well enough – since arriving. Tell me: was it fate or chance that brought you here?"

I shook my head helplessly. "I don't know. I was hoping you would."

Chuckle. "Which would you prefer it was?"

That was a question I could answer. "Chance. I hope. I don't like the idea of being locked into a fate."

Flemeth smiled easily. "No one is locked into a fate, but some fates are more certain than others."

"Uh…."

"No, I do not see the future." Her head tilted like a bird's. "I do, at times, see futures."

I nodded. "I understand."

Soft laughter. "I thought you would. Most do not. And you: would you care to know your futures?"

"I'm…not…sure."

"A cautious answer. Certainly not a bold one. So are you cautious or bold? Bah! Do not answer that; you will not like the answer you give. Neither will I." The smile became enigmatic. "I think you would prefer to know more of this."

Flemeth's left hand reached out at angle and she seemed to grasp something. Her right hand reached out at right angles to the left and pinched the air. Flemeth then twisted her left hand and pushed with her right.

I gasped. Something was tugging at _me_ and, although it didn't quite hurt, the promise of true pain was there.

Flemeth opened her hands. "Are you well, Fadewalker?"

"I…think so. But what was that?"

"Your connection to your sphere. Oh, do not look surprised; I felt your arrival. It woke me from a sound nap. Even Morrigan felt it. Others, I am sure, did as well."

That set off an alarm. "Does Morrigan know? Who...or…what I am?"

"That is for Morrigan to tell. As for who you are, well, you simply appear to be who you are. As for what you are: you are an agent of change. And change is the only constant." She took the last step towards me.

I stepped back.

"Though there is power within you. Fortunately for you it is not the kind I desire." Laughter. "Demons may feel otherwise."

I started to ask about Amy but Flemeth just kept going.

She started by pointing a bony finger at me. "And that reminds me of something. I would ask that you remain here until I return." She spun about and headed for the only door to the room. "And do not think to follow me; this door, for now, is not for you." She grasped the wooden handle and pulled it open. There was a brief, quiet flare from the Veil and I was alone.

And confused. I'd been hoping Flemeth would've given me some answers, but all she'd done so far was give me more questions. Although by then I wasn't quite as scared of her as when we'd arrived.

So I waited. Not long, it seemed, but long enough that I poked around the shelves. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find; magical odds and ends maybe. Well, I found something interesting. Actually, several interesting things, but the only thing I felt safe examining was a matroyshka doll. Not a big one, only about the size of a coffee cup, but as I unstacked them each doll turned out to be larger than the one holding it. I got to the eighth layer before I decided to stop opening more of them; the last one was the size of a football. Putting them back together wasn't too difficult; I just had to twist them in a certain way and they popped into place.

I put the doll down and was about to check out a jar full of newt's (I'm guessing) eyes when Flemeth spoke again.

"Well done! Morrigan took several tries to understand that."

I jumped guiltily at her voice and wanted to pretend I hadn't been playing with the doll but was suddenly too preoccupied by Flemeth's companion.

"You understand more than you know. Although now you know more."

I suddenly knew a lot more.

"Fadewalker, I believe you have already met [sharp hissing]."

[greeting hiss]

"Yeah, but I call him Thing."

And then Thing offered his foot/claw appendage. As it extended it wavered slightly, as if I was seeing it through heat waves, but there was something in the claw. I saw what was there and reached my own hand out reverently. My hand tingled, and not just with the cold, as I touched the item, and an immaculate chorus of angels sounded in my head as he handed me a bottle of Coke.

I cracked it open, smelled the sweet fizziness, and- "Wait a minute," I said. "If I drink this will I fail some kind of test?"

Flemeth smirked.

Thing hissed.

I offered the bottle to Flemeth; she shook her head politely.

So I took a sip. It tasted perfect. Exactly what Coke is supposed to taste like. Perfectly carbonated, perfectly sweet, perfectly bitter. Perfect in exactly the same way the brownie was wrong.

"Is aught amiss?"

I stared at the bottle in confusion. I should have been gagging from the sugar. "I'm not sure. It's…too good."

Flemeth's smirk became a smile. "Give it to [hiss]."

I recapped the bottle and handed it back to Thing. My hand tingled again as he took it and the bottle wavered slightly. "Was that…even real?"

"Who is to say what is real and what is not?"

I think I scowled slightly. "You know what I mean."

"Ah! Now that is the Fadewalker I expected. Yes, it was real; real enough, at least. But you are right: it is not from your sphere."

"But what about…." I nodded towards Thing.

"[hiss] is of the Fade. It-"

Whatever Thing is he's not just an 'it'. "He," I interrupted.

Flemeth raised an eyebrow at that then nodded. "He is bound in service to me; I bound him to protect you, at least until you are able to protect yourself. He has performed admirably, if his reports are accurate. Now I believe they are."

That made sense. Still does.

"But now," Flemeth continued, "his time here is no longer. If you will excuse me." She turned about then added, "Take care the toy you play with."

She hissed, Thing hissed in return, and they left.

Flemeth wasn't gone as long this time. I'd just found but hadn't touched a jar of what looked like frog toes when she came back in. I didn't jump guiltily that time.

"Our time is growing short, Fadewalker. Have you more to say, or to ask?"

"Uhm…." I thought fast. "The safety bubble I end up in when I go to the Fade, where did…." I trailed off.

Flemeth smirked and cocked her head.

"Shoulda known. Well, thank you for that. And for Thing. I don't think I'd've made it this far without him."

The smirk turned into a smile. "You are welcome. And you have a choice: would you care to have Thing's binding continue? Or do you feel he has used all of his time with you?"

I wasn't really comfortable with the binding thing Flemeth mentioned; it made it sound like Thing was her slave. Which he might actually be. But then if I said 'let him go' would she let him go or would she keep him for her own purposes? I took too long to think about that.

Flemeth read my thoughts. (Well, I hope she didn't, but you know what I mean.) "Think on that if you must. Now, quickly, one last question."

That was easy. Although I had (and have) a lot more. "How do I get home?"

The smile turned back into a smirk. "You already know that."

"But-"

Flemeth's hands clapped together with a gunshot. "Time is up! Come, quickly. Move, boy!"

That got my feet going. Flemeth pulled the door open and gave me a look that rivaled Wynne's. I didn't hesitate. Even though I had no idea where the door would lead Flemeth's insistence got me moving. It was anticlimactic; as I stepped over the threshold there was a brief flicker from the Veil and I was back outside the hut. Neria was directly in front of me and I heard Alistair clanking along right behind me.

Neria spun about with angry confusion on her face but looked relieved when she saw me and Alistair. I turned around and saw Alistair clenching his jaw so tightly I thought his molars would shatter. He nodded at me then turned around to look at what Neria and I were staring at.

Flemeth (a single Flemeth) was smiling cagily at us but let her gaze slide past us and back towards the tree stump. The dangerous smile became genuine (for lack of a better word).

I turned back around. Sten was standing stoically, muscles in his jaw twitching, watching the rest of the group. Oghren, Leliana, Zevran, Cullen, Brianduin, and an elf boy named Carny (actually Carnesir, I learned later) appeared to be having a tea party.

Oghren slurped his tea and looked towards us. "Sodding good cookies, grandmother!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: I had hoped to get this chapter up earlier but working on the armor really ate up the free time. However, except for some final tweaking, the armor is pretty much done, and there's still 50 days until Phoenix ComiCon! I think I'll try building a M8 Avenger. Of course, that means that much longer until Beta Reader gets her dining room table back…._

**Jerseydanielgibson: **_I don't think apostate mages undergo a formal Harrowing, but they obviously figure out some way to avoid the worst dangers of Fade. Like you suggested I think the Harrowing is a form of Chantry control. And you've got some other interesting thoughts there. Perhaps you should consider exploring them…._

**Septon:** _Jeff hasn't used Beta Mags because the thought just hasn't occurred to him. But then he is a soldier and tends to stick with what's familiar and what works._

**Macman6453:** _the cat is an encounter from _**The Stone Prisoner**_ DLC._

**Story Weaver:** _very kind words. Thank you. And best of luck with your story. Give me a shout when you publish._

**fuzzyzergling: **_At the time Jeff was transported there was some good evidence that Parson was in some kind of coma dream. I've got my own theories about Erfworld but really don't want to go into them here._

**TheScreamingViking, BROvolone, Ioialoha, Macman6453, SnowHelm: ** _hope you (and everybody else) approves of how I handled Flemeth. And don't worry; she's going to get some more screen time._

**Fallen Gods Rise: **_I know what was in the book, but Jeff doesn't. Jeff does know that demons aren't to be trusted; at least that's the takeaway he got from playing through the game. He also doesn't know the formula for lyrium-based blasting powder but the dwarves don't necessarily that the formula they gave him is Qunari and not dwarven._

**Volkogluk:** _thank you! I'm doing my best to keep things moving and will wrap things up as best I can and as quickly as I can._

**InsidiousAgent:** _do enough time in the military and you'll end up with the patience of a saint or in the stockade for giving someone (probably an officer) a well-deserved beatdown. Jeff's got the patience to choose his battles; a handful of wrung-out Templars just aren't worth the trouble._

**Triple T 123:** _I'm not sure what allusion you're speaking of._

**Guest:** _I'd love to give you a shout out, but I'm sorry, Dave; I can't do that._


	89. Wise Choices

**Evening**

Brian stopped short and was almost knocked down as Cullen ran into him. He turned around and looked at us with bright eyes. "Grandmother won't let me go any further. But she said to give you this." He reached into a frayed pocket and pulled out something the size of a golf ball and handed it to Neria. "Grandmother said you'd know what to do with it."

Neria took the item and 'hmm'ed at it.

"Sers? Do you think I could be a Warden?"

"Certainly," Alistair answered brightly.

"But you won't want to," Neria muttered.

I jumped in, partially to head off the argument. "Thanks, Brian. Why don't you head back now?"

Brian picked up on the no-nonsense tone of my voice. "Yes, ser."

He took off like a squirrel; Cullen perked up then moaned as his new playmate disappeared. He looked at the three humans and decided no ear scratches were forthcoming. He flopped to the ground and groaned theatrically.

Alistair, Neria, and I looked at the ball. Yeah, just the three of us. Neria gave strict orders about that; something Flemeth told her, I'm sure, but our leader didn't elaborate.

"So what is that?" Alistair asked.

Neria kept staring at the ball. "I'm not sure, but I just need to push some mana into it." She tensed slightly.

"Wait." Alistair reached out and lightly touched Neria's arm. He looked at us both nervously. "What did Flemeth say to you?" He looked at me. "And you?"

[hurf]

"I know what she said to you!"

Neria glared at the dog. "And to think your loyalty depends on who gives you cookies."

[embarrassed groan]

"Hey," I interjected, "_my_ loyalty depends on who gives me cookies." But the words didn't feel as light as they sounded.

"No," Alistair said, "that's Sten."

At that point I didn't really know what to add. Neither did the others. We all stared uncomfortably at each other for a moment (except for Cullen, who started scratching himself) until Neria sighed.

"What did Flemeth say to you?"

Alistair and I exchanged a look, then I shrugged and went first. "She sent Thing to watch me. And she said I'll change things. And…she told me I already know how to get home."

Alistair raised an eyebrow, tilted his head, shrugged, and opened his mouth.

Neria was quicker. "She showed me…well, get your book out; you'll wanna write about this."

So I did. Then Neria reached a hand up to her staff's blade. The staff is dinged and scratched, and we've had to repair the crystal setting a couple of times, but the blade's edge is magically sharp. So sharp that when Neria sliced her hand on it she only winced slightly before the blood welled up and pooled in her palm.

Despite everything I've been through I still have issues seeing someone get cut like that. But before the phobia manifested I felt a little tiny tug at the back of my head. And then phobia was forgotten because the puddle of blood wasn't dripping off Neria's hand, but instead oscillating, dancing, almost like a drop of water on a hot griddle. I stared, fascinated, because liquids shouldn't act like that without some kind of outside help, whether supernatural or technological.

"Maker, Neria!" Alistair's voice was tight. "That's-"

"Blood magic," she said quietly. "I know."

The puddle pulled itself back into Neria's hand. She ran a finger along the cut; it disappeared and left a fine white line that I could only see when Neria held her hand out for inspection. Alistair refused to look.

"Ever since I drank Avernus' potion-"

"Oh, Maker!" Alistair interrupted.

"…I've felt different. Then when we found Jowan I asked him about it. He showed me…some things, but…blood magic. Then Flemeth…she said the power can be useful, but to be careful."

"And you should!"

Neria gave him a pained look. "And I will be! I'm still me, Alistair! I just…know more now."

Alistair actually took a step back. "But…blood magic!"

"It's just magic. A different kind, but still just magic."

"It's just a tool," I said quickly. "There's nothing inherently good or bad about it. It depends on how it's used. Just like a sword." Or nuclear weapons. I mean, I've run up against two blood mages and both immediately tried to dominate me somehow. Although somehow I resisted both times. But I don't (or at least didn't) see Neria as capable of that. But I haven't seen any benevolent uses for blood magic and offhand I can't think of any. Not that we'll really need them, and I'm not feeling too benevolent towards the darkspawn anyway.

Neria looked relieved. "Exactly. Flemeth said it's an easy path to quick power, and that I'd need the power."

"Oh, Maker," Alistair moaned.

"But she also said I need to continue to learn Fade magic. So I will. But I have…well, blood magic at my disposal. If I need it."

Even in the gloomy light Alistair was pale. He just stood there shaking his head.

"Alistair?" Neria reached out a hand and touched him lightly on his armored arm.

Alistair didn't flinch, or shrink back, or even give her a dirty look. Instead he looked upset and resigned. "It's what Flemeth told me." Sigh. "She said if I don't drink Avernus' potion I won't return from Ostagar. But if I do I'll become-" Shudder. "Blood magic."

Neria lifted her chin stubbornly. "So we won't go."

"But the promise I made. To that man. And the Wardens…."

"Then drink the potion."

"But…blood magic!"

My turn to step up. "I drank that potion, and I'm not a blood mage." Although I could feel Neria's (and Jowan's) manipulations. Hmm. Anyway….

"That's true, I guess."

"Did she say why you need to drink it?"

Alistair snorted. "She said I already know."

We looked back and forth at each other and ended up nodding and saying, "Right."

"It's your decision, Alistair," Neria said quietly. But she dug into her pack.

"Your call, dude," I added quietly but firmly.

"I know."

* * *

><p>Neria and I were giving Alistair some space while he thought. He was staring at the vial with distaste, but kept looking towards Ostagar.<p>

And with that in mind Neria was looking at the ball Flemeth had sent. Gray and featureless, at least until Neria closed her hand over it and concentrated briefly. There was a ghost of a flicker and the ball suddenly erupted in golden light and leapt out of Neria's hand. We both jumped back but the ball didn't do anything but hover for a few seconds. There was no discernable front or back to it, but the ball gave off the impression of rotating on its axis and fixing a hidden eye on us. It moved towards Ostagar at a walking pace, stopped about thirty feet away, and rotated back and forth. "Well, are you coming?" was the impression we got.

We stared at the ball for a few seconds before Neria spoke. "Does it seem to you that Flemeth's being a bit too helpful?"

I nodded. "I don't think Flemeth helps anyone but herself."

"You're rutting right about that."

* * *

><p>Alistair looked back towards Flemeth's out-of-sight hut, then back roughly towards Ostagar, and then back towards the hut. And then he looked at the vial frowned at the greasily shifting contents. Another look back towards Ostagar. And then Alistair set his jaw, whipped back around, and popped open the vial.<p>

Neria jumped but managed to call, "You only need a half measure."

That's all Alistair got down. He gargled out a wet moan and hunched over. We dashed over; Neria managed to rescue the vial before it dropped. Cullen jumped up and alerted on the Templar; Neria quietly said, "You're okay." I just watched helplessly.

And then there was a flare from Alistair. The Warden Taint seemed to explode out of him and then implode back in. After it did I could still sense his presence, but even though it's still strong it's also muted somehow in the same way that Neria's is. And in the back of my head I felt that same connection I've been feeling towards Neria sprout a new shoot towards Alistair.

He looked up at us. "Maker," he choked out, "that was horrible. Worse than the Joining potion." He stood back up; his stare was a little wild. "But did it work? I don't-"

"It worked," Neria and I said at the same time.

The eyes stayed wild for a beat then took on a thousand-yard stare. Alistair tilted his head back and forth for a few seconds before nodding. "I think it did."

"Are you okay?" we asked together.

Another nod. "I am." A careful smile that had something behind it. "Yeah, I'm okay." Alistair drew himself up. "Come on; let's return to- That's right; you've never been there before."

* * *

><p>So with that we headed to Ostagar. The orb had been impatiently waiting; as we approached it undetectably spun about then started away at a walking pace. We passed around some looks, shrugged, and somberly took off after it.<p>

It took a while, but Guilty Spark finally stopped about the same time Alistair said, "I know where we are."

"So do I," Neria added.

"So…that way?" I pointed vaguely ahead of us.

There was a tickle in my head that meant darkspawn were there. Not many, but enough. And that was on top of the background hum caused by the Taint. Nothing concentrated, but enough that it was a constant reminder that this was now darkspawn territory.

"That way," Alistair confirmed.

"Let's be careful."

Alistair and Neria just nodded. Cullen huffed.

We started walking again but the orb didn't move. It just stayed in place and bobbed gently.

* * *

><p>"Maker," Neria said quietly. "I wonder if this is the fellow I gave my dinner to." She sighed the sigh of the world-weary. "They never let him out." She stared at the burnt corpse in the cage for a moment then sighed again. "Let's go."<p>

* * *

><p>We looked down at the dead hurlock. It was another big one, and it was wearing gold-colored boots.<p>

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Alistair said. "Those are definitely Cailen's."

I re-cocked my crossbow. "Gotcha covered."

Alistair gave me a nod and knelt down to recover the boots. Cullen tried to help.

Neria bumped into me and pointed her staff at a long, weather-ruined table. "That's where Cailen gave us our task."

I kept watching the perimeter for bad guys; Neria certainly wasn't.

"That was…a long time ago."

Alistair fell on his ass with a grunt and boot in hand. "Yeah. And that's when Loghain decided to betray him. I should have been able to tell from his voice." He went back to wrestling with the dead hurlock.

* * *

><p>"This is where we held the Joining," Alistair said. He was poking at a long burned-out bonfire.<p>

I was admiring the view. There was a straight drop, easily scores of feet, into a tight canyon directly below the overlook. There's debris down there, but without getting closer I can't really make it out.

There was a raven strutting around pecking at random things. I couldn't make anything else out, but I could feel it. Them, that is. "There's darkspawn down there. And out there."

"I can feel them," Alistair confirmed.

Neria said something.

"I know," Alistair answered.

I turned around in time to catch the tail end of a hug.

* * *

><p>Darkspawn swarmed us from all directions, but we were ready for them. Alistair and I covered Neria from her 10 and 2 while she cast. Cullen darted out between us and tore into hamstrings, slammed against knees and legs, and overpowered the smaller darkspawn.<p>

I bounced darkspawn off my shield, punched others in the face, and even stabbed one every now and then. Alistair flicked his own shield around, stabbed and slashed, and even kicked a genlock in the crotch.

"Nice shot!"

"Thank you!" Alistair responded brightly.

My whole right side tingled as lightning crackled its way through the gap, then iced over as an elemental cold that made the snowy landscape seem balmy erupted from behind me. A darkspawn in the gap iced over and panted in agony before Neria's blade caught it square in the chest. "Less talking; more stabbing!"

* * *

><p>"I thought you said darkspawn don't like the cold."<p>

"I didn't think they did."

"Well, these don't seem to mind it too much."

I let Alistair and Neria bicker and took a look at the bodies around us. They were wearing scavenged bits of clothing and armor. A lot more than their underground counterparts had, but nowhere near what they'd need to really be comfortable. What was it Jory'd said?

"A soup pot would be warmer than this forest," Alistair answered. He was poking at a darkspawn corpse.

My inside voice is getting louder.

"For all the whining he did he was right about that," Neria added. "Smartest thing I heard him say."

"Yeah." Alistair gave the corpse one last jab. "Let's go."

I double-tapped a twitching genlock. "Let's be careful. Extra careful. These guys are better organized than usual."

"Right."

"Right."

"Hurf."

* * *

><p>I let out a wordless shout that stopped a darkspawn charge cold and slammed it to the ground with my shield. I hip-checked one, then cleanly stabbed a third through the blankets wrapped around its chest. I heard a <em>thunk<em> from my right and a shout from behind me, but focused my attention on the two darkspawn in front of me. I bashed the one standing, kicked the one trying to get up, watched everything go sideways, and finally sat up in confusion as the warm tingling of a heal went through me. Cullen was busy slobbering on my face; I pushed him off and sat up.

"Don't feel bad; I didn't see him either." Alistair sounded grimly satisfied as he pointed at a dead hurlock.

A big dead hurlock. I mean, really big. Big enough to look Sten in the eye. Armored fairly well although he didn't have any weapons that I saw.

"What…?" I was still a bit confused from the reboot.

Neria half-smiled as she finished checking me over. "It just charged out while we were fighting and ran you down." The smile turned predatory. "I got it, though."

I took another look at the corpse. It looked squished. I looked back to Neria. "Good job."

She inclined her head.

"And look what it had," Alistair said. He held up a shield.

It's big like the Templar shields, but instead of the flaming sword there's a pair of red rampant Mabari under a yellow crown on a background of pale oak. At least that's what it's supposed to be. The crown and Mabari inlays are cracked and stained; the finer details have actually split and are in bad need of repair and/or replacement. The larger wooden pieces are looking weather-worn and the metal rim is rusted. I'm guessing darkspawn aren't too big on preventive maintenance.

I gave Alistair a questioning look.

He nodded grimly. "It's Cailan's." He hefted it experimentally.

"It needs some cleaning up, but it looks good on you."

Alistair turned red and didn't answer.

* * *

><p>There aren't tents left; the darkspawn looted the cloth for crude clothing. Any subtle landmarks are concealed by snow. Alistair and Neria casted back and forth for a while before finally agreeing that a particular skeleton of poles and braces was the Grey Warden quarters.<p>

We picked our way through overturned bunks and tables, occasionally stumbling over smaller items hidden in the snow. We stopped at a chest; its lid had been literally torn off. Alistair dug into the snow and felt around inside the chest.

He swore quietly. "There's a box about this big I'm looking for." He held up his hands about a foot apart.

So we poked around some more. It didn't take long; we found the heavy, thick-walled, oaken box next to what used to be Duncan's cot. It was literally chopped open. Whatever was in it was long gone.

Alistair swore again. "That was where Duncan kept the Joining potion."

* * *

><p>"Maker's breath!"<p>

Alistair held up the sword he'd retrieved from the half-buried but still locked chest that used to belong to Cailan. It's in pretty good shape considering it's been locked in a chest for the last few months. The gold-colored pommel and guard are still shiny, the wire wrapping the hilt is tight and clean, the blade looks sharp, and the gem inset in the crossguard flickered then glowed gently when Alistair eased the sword from its scabbard.

Alistair reverently sheathed the weapon; the gem's light darkened as he did. "I think this is Maric's sword."

"Maybe, but I think it likes you," Neria said.

I frowned; that was my line. I took a look at the chest, retrieved a small pouch and a leather folder, and closed the lid. "Do you want the key?"

Alistair was easing the sword free of its scabbard again but stopped. "Yeah."

I locked the lid and handed the key to Alistair. He took it by the leather cord and tucked it away. Neria took the other items, but I watched Alistair; he was trying to draw the sword again.

"Dude, you with us?"

Alistair's eyes were puppy-dogging the sword. "It's my father's."

I nodded. "It's yours now." I turned to Neria. "Come on. Let's give him a moment."

* * *

><p>I looked out over the bridge. I couldn't feel any darkspawn nearby, but crossing that much open ground just felt wrong.<p>

Neria was looking down. "That's where the battle was. I thought there'd be more…."

"More bodies?"

"Yeah."

I took a careful look. "Well, there's something down there; I can see movement. And I can see those little sparks that mean undead."

Neria leaned forward. "I don't see anything." She leaned further out.

I gently grabbed her cloak and pulled her back. She gave me a look; I tapped my glasses.

"Right. You gonna shoot it?"

"Hmm." If it was darkspawn it was out of range. If it was something else there was no guarantee I could hurt it. Assuming I could even hit it from that angle. And if I just alerted it we'd have more problems than we'd be able to deal with. "No."

Neria wiped darkspawn blood off her cheek and nodded. "Right. Then let's go."

I put a hand on her arm and scanned the far side of the bridge. I didn't see or feel anything, but my instincts were tingling. And I could see even more sparks. "I don't like this. It's a perfect place for an ambush."

Neria scanned the area herself. "I think so, too, but-" She nodded back towards Alistair. "He wants to do this."

"I know." This was a dangerous side trip, but Alistair wanted closure.

"So let's go."

Alistair needed to get his head back in the game, too. We'd started across the bridge when we realized we were missing someone. Neria turned back towards Alistair. "You coming?"

He was still concealed in the approach to the bridge. Alistair jerked his head up from his new sword. "On the way!" He eased out and stopped and got that thousand-meter stare that Neria and I understood immediately.

I did a one-eighty and checked the far side of the bridge. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw movement there. I grabbed Neria's arm and got us moving back towards Alistair.

There's only one way to survive an ambush: assault the ambushers. It didn't take us long to get off the bridge. And it didn't take long to see the darkspawn Alistair had sensed. I fired my crossbow, got a hit, and drew my sword. There was an explosion of some sort behind me, but I didn't feel anything, and had the sense to not look back and trusted Neria to cover us.

"Come on!"

Alistair started moving as I drew abreast of him. We charged a half-dozen hurlocks that suddenly became a couple less when a fireball exploded among them. Alistair and I hacked and slashed our way through the survivors. We'd just cleared that group when Neria yelped; we spun around and got moving.

It's surprising how fast you can go in plate armor but not surprising how big an impact you have when you hit something. I screamed as I rushed what I thought was a hurlock but turned out to be a man-sized skeleton; that's what I get from not paying better attention. The thing didn't flinch from the scream but it didn't matter; with not much meat on its bones I sent it flying and the little sparks in its eyes disappeared when I crushed its head.

"'Ware archers!"

An arrow pinged off me. I ducked behind some cover and assessed the situation.

Neria was running her hands over a whining and scorched Cullen. "There's a mage out there!"

"Incoming!" Alistair had peeked around the cover we were in.

Neria rolled away, pulling Cullen with her, right as the fireball exploded. Alistair had his shield up, but I caught the blast on my armor. I got knocked backwards, clanked my head on a statue, and felt a strip of frying bacon on my face. I didn't have a chance to let it hurt, though; Alistair grabbed me and pulled me up and aimed me in roughly the right direction. Good thing he did because I was having a hard time seeing clearly out of my eye.

"Let's go!"

Cullen growled from behind me as Alistair pulled me along. But I got my feet under me as we ran and then suddenly saw the mage.

I'd been expecting a darkspawn emissary, but this was a skeleton. Its eyes were glowing with cold intelligence that didn't betray a thing as we rushed forward. Neria fireballed a skeletal archer; it shattered when Alistair slammed his shield into it on the way to the mage.

A black glow erupted from the mage and caught Alistair squarely. He staggered and collapsed face-first into the snow. I didn't even slow down; the undead mage was pulling power for its next spell and I was sure I was the target. I closed the gap and just managed to win the race. I lead with my shield; it caught the skeleton's hands; the spell fizzled into black-light sparks. I skidded to a stop, stabbed at - but missed - the thing's spine, bashed its face, and kicked it in the shin. The mage went down; I brought my sword around hard and crushed the skull. The lights flickered away.

* * *

><p>"We got lucky," I insisted.<p>

Alistair was fine. The skeleton had just paralyzed him, but he took a nasty fall when he froze. No problem. Neria turned a pool of dark hurlock blood into powder and used the energy to give him a once-over.

Then it was my turn, but I insisted we back off the bridge and take some cover. Then I eased off my helmet. Both Neria and Alistair winced as I did.

"That bad, huh?"

"Take off your glasses," Neria ordered.

I did, and then she took a sharp knife and lanced the blister running across my face. The warm liquid ran down my neck but I didn't get a chance to catch it. Neria immediately slapped a hand on me and pushed healing energy in.

I got relaxed and sleepy so we took a few minutes to rest, grab a snack, and talk about what we were doing. We kept eyes and senses out while we recharged; we could feel darkspawn flickering around at the limits, and I kept spotting movement even further out.

"Don't scratch," Neria said as she slapped at my hand.

"I know," I growled. It did itch, though. Still does. I shoved some jerky into my mouth and chased it with about a quart of water.

Alistair swallowed his own mouthful. "We need to get moving." His body language obviously meant 'over the bridge.'

"That's a bad idea," I said.

"That's a get someone killed idea," Neria added.

"But-" Alistair started.

"We got lucky," I insisted.

Neria nodded firmly. "We did."

"But-"

"Alistair," I said evenly, "what's over that bridge that's so important?" I already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from him.

Neria glanced back at me with worry in her eyes. "So why are we here?"

Alistair shifted uncomfortably and his voice was hesitant. "I was hoping to find...well, Duncan, and the other Wardens, and maybe Cailan, and maybe do something for them."

Neria shook her head almost imperceptibly.

I shook my head a bit more perceptibly. "I don't think that's a realistic goal." I was remembering how many undead things were running around Ostagar, including that zombified ogre. And we'd already run into too many darkspawn.

Alistair's helmet dipped. "But I need to do something."

"Alistair," Neria said, "I don't think it's a good idea."

"But-"

"Hey," I said quietly, "you remember them. Sometimes that's all you can do."

"And if we push on-"

"Then who'll remember us?"

"And who'll fight the Blight?"

The helmet dipped some more. "But..."

"Remember what you said about not enough being left of Ferelden to fit in a tea cup? I'm sorry, man, but we've gotta look at the big picture."

I'm pretty sure Alistair started swearing in his helmet; I couldn't make out the words. And then I felt some darkspawn moving around on the bridge. Alistair looked out from his cover. I stuck my head out but couldn't see anything. I got an arrow shot at me for my trouble.

"Hey!" I snapped both at Alistair and the unseen archer. "Don't mind me, but didn't we all agree that the Blight's the number one problem?"

Neria reached a hand out. "We'll come back when all this over..."

"Piss off!" Alistair snapped back at me.

My hackles went up.

"You didn't know Duncan, but I did! He was a good man! He took care of me and-"

"He also made sure you didn't end up getting killed. Yeah, we've been over this before."

"Maker, Jeff; you're such an arse sometimes! Can't you let me have my way for once?"

"You know, I-" I think I was about to say something about him whining about Duncan. Or maybe take a cheap, jealous shot about Leliana, but something thumped off my helmet and my thoughts made a right-angle turn. "Dude, I'd be happy to, but crossing that fucking bridge is gonna get us fucking killed!" Then my helmet rang.

"Both of you: stop it!" Neria's hands were still glowing from the magically-enhanced Gibbs' slaps she'd given us. "Alistair: we are not crossing that bridge. Jeffrey: quit being an arse and get your head working."

I acknowledged Neria's admonition, glared at Alistair, and waved my hand out around the cover. A couple of arrows responded. I stuck my head out again, saw the movement I was expecting, and pointed. "Right there."

Neria nodded, concentrated, and lobbed a slow-moving fireball towards the rubble I'd indicated. It arced up and out and then the wind caught it and it curved back in as it came down. Neria's mouth twitched when we were rewarded with screaming darkspawn.

The pressure of the Taint in my head let up a bit and despite my irritation (okay, fear and anger) my thoughts cleared and I spoke analytically. "We've recovered the king's chest, right?"

"Right."

"Right." Alistair sounded sullen.

"That's why we're here. So what's our secondary goal? Why are we trying to cross this bridge?"

No answer.

I had a nasty reply ready but swallowed it. "Then we shouldn't cross. We got what we came for; let's go."

Alistair twitched then twitched again. "What about whatever's making these zombies?"

Neria dinged and got a questioning look.

"Technically they're skeletons," I answered.

Alistair mumbled something.

"But good point," I conceded. "There's a darkspawn mage out there-"

Neria suddenly shuddered. "I hope it's a darkspawn."

Beat. "Very good point. But whatever it is it's animating bodies and needs to be taken down. But can we do that right now? Just the three of us?"

"Hurf."

"Four."

Neria shook her head. "Maybe if we were all here-"

"But we're not."

"-and even if we were crossing that bridge is a bad idea."

Alistair's head whipped around. "But-"

"Alistair, I'm sorry, but this is a bad idea."

Alistair huffed and stood defiantly for a moment before his shoulders drooped. "Fine."

* * *

><p>The pinpricks in our minds had been at a distance, but definitely within the range of our enhanced senses. And I'm pretty sure the darkspawn couldn't feel us at that range because they kept coming out on the bridge in pairs or trios. We held our position until Neria fireballed another group then carefully retreated from the pinned-down position. The darkspawn presence we could feel on the far side faded as we withdrew.<p>

We hustled our way back through burned-out camp and past the bodies of the darkspawn we'd already encountered. We couldn't feel anything behind us but didn't want to give any pursuers a chance to catch up. None of us had much to say, not even Alistair, although he did suggest we find a way down to the main battlefield. Neria vetoed that ("Bad idea.") but said we'd come back when we had more time and more help ("I promise when all this is over….")

I think we're all making too many promises like that.

* * *

><p>By the time we got back to Flemeth's hut Guilty Spark was just a pin-point of light that floated up to the hut's door and burst into a tiny firework of sparks that burned out in a heartbeat.<p>

The swamp was dark, damp, and cold, but somehow the folks left behind had found enough dry wood to greet us with a warm yellow campfire. Sten had set himself on guard outside the firelight; he acknowledged us with a curt nod and remained on station. Oghren didn't move from where he was snoring. Zevran and Leliana rose to greet us, pointed us at some hot washing water they'd thoughtfully laid on, and eventually we got a hot if not too-tasty meal.

Zevran's teeth flashed. "So. Did you find what you had hoped to find?"

Alistair's face was unreadable from across the fire. "Some of it."

Leliana gave him a gentle pat on the back.

"Your padre's sword, no?"

"Mio padre's sword; yes." Alistair hadn't let the sword get past arms' length. He lifted it up and actually bared steel. The gem flickered as he did.

Zevran nodded. "A fine blade to match the fine blade you are carrying. Perhaps I could teach you a two-weapon style."

Leliana whispered something and giggled.

Alistair actually smiled back at the elf. "Thanks, but I like sword and board."

"As you wish, mio amico."

* * *

><p>We heard the Flemeth's door creak open; she walked up to us as noisily as she could. "So," she said (to Neria, I think), "you have returned. Safely, it appears. Good. Now rest. Avail yourselves of the fire for the night and we shall discuss things further upon the sunrise. Goodnight." Without waiting for a response she hobbled away from usand into the darkness surrounding her hut. There was a quiet thump as the door closed.<p>

"No," Neria said flatly, "I haven't decided." She reached over my shoulder and tapped my journal. "What I said was, 'Quit being an arse and get your head back in the game.'"

I forgot to make the correction.

Sten spoke from the darkness. "This Flemeth appears to be truly bas serabas. I would even consent to calling her serabas aleet-an [sp?]. She may prove to be a valuable ally, but she may also prove to be a lethal foe."

"Are you saying we should recruit _Flemeth?_" Alistair's voice was strained.

"To combat her would not be wise."

"But-"

"Allying with her would not, either."

"But-"

"To struggle against this one would be as foolish as struggling against the tide."

"But-"

"Not killing Flemeth - that would be the honorable thing. Would it not?" Leliana's voice conveyed the skepticism. "But not doing so could be quite dangerous. And what would Morrigan have to say?"

"That's my problem," Neria muttered. "Anybody else?"

"Had I a bid open on her I would now seek to close it," Zevran said. "Or at least submit a much higher one. No rischio, no recompensa."

"I understood that," Alistair said.

"You are learning well, mio amico."

"Okay. Jeff?"

I had my back to the fire so I could see to write. I put down the journal and raised a hand. "Okay," I said as I started ticking off my fingers. "We know Morrigan was trained by Flemeth. We've seen what Morrigan can do in a fight. And Morrigan's said that Flemeth's held a lot back from her. So what does Flemeth know that Morrigan doesn't? I mean, we're talking about some potentially nasty surprises here. We know Morrigan can turn herself into a wolf, and into a-" I shuddered. "-spider and make peoples' brains asplode. Why wouldn't Flemeth be able to do the same things and more? For all we know she can turn into a…into a dragon. And if this is the Flemeth of the tales I've heard that's the bottom end of what she can do." I shook my head even though nobody could see it. "I think we'd be lucky not to end up as a fresh coat of paint on her shack."

Zevran chuckled. "Always an interesting turn of phrase from you."

I went back to writing.

"Oghren?"

I'd thought the dwarf was asleep but he belched. "It's like I told grandma: it's up to you, missy. You wanna take down the ancestor I'm with you. If not: well, that's fine, too. I'll still eat her cookies, though. And the big guy's share, too, since he don't want'em."

* * *

><p><strong>20 Firstfall, morning<strong>

So I wrote. And wrote. And wrote.

Writing wasn't preferable to sleeping, but staying awake was preferable to quite possibly running into Flemeth in the Fade. I have no idea how that would have played out and didn't really want to find out. I caught a few short stretches of sleep, but I was so worried about slipping into the Fade that I kept jerking myself awake after just a few minutes.

So, after a night of nowhere near enough sleep, the group assembled outside Flemeth's shack. I think she knew we were coming because as we approached the door creaked open and the old woman simply walked out.

She addressed us without any preamble. "As much as I have enjoyed our time together it is time to discuss my Morrigan." Flemeth slowly took us all in. "It appears she has made you dance to her tune. The music can be enchanting, no?"

"We'd…like to talk." Neria's voice shook the tiniest bit.

Flemeth smiled easily. "Then let us talk."

"Is it true what Morrigan told me? About you taking her body?"

Flemeth cackled. "That is an old tale, and one I have told myself." Another cackle. "But let us skip to its end. Do you follow Morrigan's bidding and slay this old wretch? Or does the tale take a different turn?" The smile dropped away. "Well, young Warden; what shall it be?"

"Just…the truth. Please."

"'The truth' you say, as if it were nothing. No. The truth can be an ugly thing; far better you take the comfort of the lies, both from me, and from Morrigan. And if Morrigan wishes my grimoire – well, she may have it. Take it. Then be on your way and tell her I am slain."

"And then what would become of you?"

"I will be on my way. I will…combat the Blight as I see fit."

"But what about-"

"Morrigan? Maybe I will surprise her one day, or perhaps I will just observe her in her freedom. That could be interesting. Possibly enlightening. Or do you not wish to allow an old woman to satisfy her curiosity?"

Neria shook her head. "But Morrigan…. Would she believe us?"

Flemeth's face hardened. "We believe what we want to believe. It is all we ever do." Her eyes snapped to me. "You have something to add?"

I nodded and answered. "And we believe what isn't true because we're afraid it might be."

"Wise words."

"They're not mine; I read them in a book a long time ago."

Flemeth turned her eyes back to Neria. "They may not be his but your shieldman's words are prudent. So, what will it be? A dance with old Flemeth? Or a quieter, yet more deceitful, yet still exciting course of action?"

Neria looked around at all of us then back to the witch. "Quieter is better."

"So the lies, then? They are always more fun."

"Tricking Morrigan?" Alistair quipped with a nervous voice. "That does sound ow!" He gave Leliana a dirty look.

Flemeth turned about and called towards the hut. "Brianduin! Come out!"

The door cracked open. It was too dark to make out who'd opened it, but Flemeth gestured sharply and Brian crept out of the hut. He was carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle that he offered to Flemeth.

She took it graciously. "My thanks. Back inside with you."

Brian seemed to pick up on the seriousness of the situation. "Yes, grandmother." He spun and practically leaped back through the doorway.

Flemeth turned around and gave us that easy smile. "Do consider yourselves fortunate in that you will not have to see the boys to safety." She must have seen something in our faces because she cackled again. "I have a fondness for lost children. And no, I do not eat them." She shot a sharp glance towards Alistair. "Ask Loghain of this. If you can stomach doing so. Now-" The smile dropped as Flemeth stepped towards Neria. "-take what you have come for and begone. I am finished with you; _you_ and I will not meet again. That I promise."

Flemeth shoved the bundle into Neria's unsteady hand. For an old hag she's pretty spry; Flemeth spun on a heel and strode strongly into the hut. The door thumped closed behind her with a tiny flare from the Fade.

We were left standing there not quite in confusion, but definitely in relief. I'd known what was coming if Neria had decided to fight; I think the rest of the group thought it would be worse.

Neria just stared at the bundle. We stared at Neria.

"Mio capo bella?"

That broke the spell. Neria slowly peeled back the cloth to reveal a cracked black leather covered tome.

"That is what we came for?" Leliana asked.

"I hope so," Neria answered.

"It was odd of Flemeth to surrender it so easily."

Sten grumbled. "Perhaps it is not the book she claimed it to be."

Neria was carefully folding the cloth over the grimoire. "It's something. I can feel-"

We all jumped at the sound of cracking wood and splashing water. Then we scrambled away from Flemeth's hut. The whole thing was rocking about; tilting one way and then another, but not falling over even though gravity should've had more to say about the matter. The stilts and poles holding the shack worked their way out of the mud with thick squelching noises and probed for firmer ground while the shack seemed to hover among the legs. Once all the legs were free the spidery construct turned about. The shack bobbed slowly and rhythmically as the living building strode into the swamp with almost insectoid grace. All we could do was watch.

It went south, I think.

Oghren raised an armored hand and waved. "Bye, grandma. And those _were_ sodding good cookies!"


	90. Fallout

**noon**

"Something troubles you, mio amico?"

"Si." Sigh. "Back home we have a legend about a witch who lives in the forest in a walking hut who eats people but watches out for stray children. Except her name is Baba Yaga, not Flemeth."

Zevran looked back over his shoulder then shrugged philosophically. "Perhaps this Baba Yaga is inspired by tales of Flemeth. Or perhaps Flemeth has visited your country and inspired these tales of Baba Yaga."

I'd been thinking that maybe Baba Yaga was the inspiration for Flemeth. That would certainly feed into the insanity defense and probably a couple of ideas about how and why I'm here, but Zevran's second words blue-screened me.

Zevran didn't notice the lock-up. "As you said: Flemeth is powerful, and is dotato with unknown powers. And if this is the Flemeth of legend perhaps she found the opportunity to travel further than any of us know."

My brain had just started spinning again. "Yea-ahh."

"You sound skeptico. But you must remember that anything is possible."

"Anything is possible; it's just not very probable."

"Given enough time anything is probable."

"Let me guess. You infiltrated a casino once."

"No, mio amico. This I know from experience."

* * *

><p>We didn't get back to the main camp until late morning. Neria took it upon herself to speak to Morrigan; she pulled the witch away while the rest of us prepped for movement.<p>

Given the number of dropped items and pinched fingers we had to deal with I'm pretty sure we were all watching the mages. Morrigan reacted as expected; she actually gave Neria a broad, warm smile, and I even thought she was going to hug the younger mage. They spoke quietly for a moment then Morrigan's eyes went wide. She recovered quickly, but her face was pure fury. She leaned into Neria and spoke sharply; Neria leaned right back and returned fire.

I thought we were going see a mage duel, but the two only went back and forth verbally for what seemed like forever but was probably only a minute or two. Neria's fist did clench up, but she didn't take a swing. Morrigan raised her head and looked down her nose at Neria and said something. Neria stiffened, said something back, and Morrigan twitched.

Neria turned around and stalked back to the camp. Morrigan just stood and watched; I expected death rays to shoot out of her eyes.

Neria stomped over to where we'd all stopped moving. "What?" she snapped and looked around. "Pack your shit; we're moving out." Beat. "Move!"

We started scrambling about. It didn't take long; except for Morrigan we hadn't really unpacked. Morrigan finally started gathering her own things while we loaded up Bill, loaded up ourselves, and got ready to go.

So we were just waiting on Morrigan.

Sten asked the question we all wanted to ask. "Will the bas serabas continue to accompany us?"

Neria shrugged and tried to make her answer nonchalant. "If she wants."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

"So the bas serabas will no longer be accompanying us?"

"I already told you that's up to her."

Sten pondered that for a moment. "She is a formidable ally, yet she is serabas."

Neria stopped chopping a very sad looking onion. "Maker, Sten, I'm serabas."

"No," was the firm answer. "You are a Grey Warden."

"And I'm serabas."

"You are Grey Warden."

Neria took a long slow blink. "And what's the difference?"

"A bas serabas is uncontrolled. Unpredictable. _Unleashed._ A Grey Warden is disciplined. Duty-driven. Focused." Sten glanced in my direction. "Usually."

Neria raised a hand and held a little ball of fire. "What about this? Doesn't being able to do this make me serabas?"

"No. You are a Grey Warden."

Neria narrowed her eyes and punched her hand towards Sten. The little fireball zipped past his head at a reasonably safe distance. "Does that make me serabas?"

Sten hadn't even flinched. "No. You had no intention, no desire to harm me."

Neria summoned another fireball. "How 'bout now?"

"You still have no desire to harm me. I submit you are a Warden, not serabas."

Neria huffed and the fireball disappeared. "Fine. Am I at least a woman?"

"I have not decided that yet."

* * *

><p><strong>21 Firstfall, late morning<strong>

"So you still mad at me?"

Alistair nodded. "But I'm madder at Morrigan. I can't believe she just let us walk away." He glanced around suspiciously; we were walking at the front of the group but (probably) out of earshot of them. Except for maybe Zevran. And possibly Leliana. Anyway….

Alistair looked around. "Don't tell anyone I said this but she's been…."

"Nice to have around?"

"Useful!" was the hissed answer. "She may be a bitch but she's powerful; she sets off my Templar instincts whenever she casts. And she's a good compliment to Neria. The two of them together…."

"I know."

The two of them have completely different styles. Neria is pretty straightforward; Morrigan's much more subtle. But Neria has that fine control when she's healing, and I've seen Morrigan when she eschews subtlety and literally blows enemies away.

But I guess you could say the same thing about Alistair and me. He's a confident, competent swordsman and he uses both blade and shield like they're extensions of his body. I, OTOH, even after all these months, still tend to treat my targets like tackling dummies: I run over them and stab them at a conveniently later time. Alistair picks his opponents apart like he's playing chess with them; I just knock over the board.

Anyway…

Alistair kicked a rock down the road. "But Ostagar – yeah, I'm mad, but I think I understand. But I don't know why Neria wouldn't take any of the others."

I ignored that and shrugged. "She hasn't told me either."

"I wonder if Flemeth said anything to her about it."

"Seems like the most reasonable explanation."

Alistair looked around again. "What did she say to you?"

"Some advice on how to get home."

"Really? Anything useful?"

"Not really. What about you?"

"Uhm."

"If you don't want to tell me you don't have to."

Alistair sounded pretty sullen when he answered. "Yeah, let's leave it at that."

* * *

><p><strong>22 Firstfall, noon<strong>

"Are you calling me out, big guy?"

"I am not calling you out. I am merely saying that while it has its merits, the dwarven caste system compares poorly to the Qunari way of life."

"Sure sounds like you're calling me out."

Sten sighed. He's got a very put-upon sigh. "I am not calling you out. I am criticizing your society. You do as well."

"Well, it's my sodding society!"

"I was under the impression you had exiled yourself."

"No, I got up and left because I told Missy I've got her back. At least 'til the Blight's over."

"Truly?"

"'Truly.'" Oghren snorted. "And she gives me all the blighters I can kill, decent food, good beer, and by the Ancestors she's got stones, too!" He leaned forward aggressively. "And you know what? She's cute, too. Find her the right fellow and she'll have her own house and be popping out younglings before the Assembly can call a question. Does my tired-. Wait. What were we talking about?"

Beat. "Orzammar."

"Yeah. Right. Anyway, you don't get to talk about Orzammar. I do. Well, Shaper can, too."

I looked up from the diary. "Leave me out of this."

"Are you sitting there? Then you're in it!"

I gave the dwarf a stink eye. "And how did I earn that honor?"

Oghren pointed a deliberate finger at me. "See. That's your problem. You never just stop and take whatever's happening; you always gotta think about what's going on before you do anything about it."

I responded deliberately. "And that's kept me alive these last few months."

Snort. He held out the flask, shrugged at my refusal, and took a quick drink. "There's more to living than just staying alive."

* * *

><p><strong>23 Firstfall, morning<strong>

Zevran shrugged apologetically. "As I have said before: although I have spent time with the Dalish we are most unalike. They care not for me, and I mostly care not for them. I was - am…too worldly for them; too willing to mix with anyone." He nodded to Alistair. "Perhaps you know the Dalish as you do the dwarves."

Alistair shook his head. "Sorry. Duncan only took me to Orzammar. I've only met a couple of Dalish. They're not very friendly."

Neria responded around a spoonful of oatmeal. "So will they even listen to us? Or help us find - what was that name again?"

I'd given the group a general backbrief on the Dalish, to include their semi-formal leader. I hadn't said anything about the problem we're going to have to deal with, though. "Zathrian," I answered. "Uhm, they should – should – be willing to help us find him, especially if they're willing to honor the treaties. I don't know why they wouldn't. And as long as we go in as Grey Wardens they probably won't fill us with arrows first thing."

"I'll pull out the tabards," Alistair said.

"It might be a day or two early for that."

"Never hurts to be prepared."

Neria looked around at us. Worriedly. "But will they honor the treaties?"

Zevran, Alistair, and I all answered at the same time. "They are unfriendly, but keep their word." "They do respect Grey Wardens, even human ones." "Don't see why not."

Neria nodded. "Okay. Let's hope they don't have any major problem we have to fix first." Sigh. "Get your shit; we need to get moving."

Except for Leliana, who pulled Neria aside, we hauled ourselves up and went to break camp. The two of them spoke quietly for a few minutes but I didn't catch the words. I did have a pretty good idea of what they were talking about, though.

Zevran did, too. "She has lost her spark, no?"

"Seems like it."

"She made a difficult decision and now must endure the consequences."

"That's the hard part about being charge."

"She isn't totally to blame, mio amico. I seem to remember others having strong opinions on how to deal with Flemeth."

"Yeah, but the person in charge gets the blame. Right or wrong."

Zevran sighed and spoke sadly. "This is all too true." He pulled himself up. "Ah, well. Come. Let us see what the new day brings."

My turn to sigh. "I already know: lot of walking, more trees, and probably some darkspawn."

Theatrical sigh. "I fear you may be correct. But who knows: perhaps we'll see some interesting rocks."

* * *

><p><strong>24 Firstfall, morning<strong>

The last thirty minutes is longest two hours of the night. The sky turns from black to gray. All but the brightest stars fade into the growing light. The cold goes from tolerable to penetrating. And your body knows it's time to quit even if your mind doesn't. Tired feet start to ache. The threat of a headache becomes real. The scratchy but alert eyes become heavy and hard to focus. Just your standard end-of-shift.

But all that gets a little better when someone rouses themselves and gets the fire going and heats up some water and brings you a cup of that nasty Fereldan tea. We're long out of the dwarven mix, and there's nothing to sweeten it with, but I guess I've gotten used to it. Which is funny because I never learned to like coffee and this stuff is far worse.

So Leliana found me as I walked the perimeter and handed me a steaming mug of tea. "You seemed cold."

I took the mug gratefully. "Yeah, I am, thanks." I sipped carefully and stopped shivering.

Leliana appraised me as I did. "Are you well?"

Shrug. "Well as can be, I guess."

"I am not so certain of that. You are withdrawn. Perhaps a little bitter."

"I'm tired."

"We are all tired. But you have changed."

"We've all changed."

"You have changed more than you know. You no longer make horrible jests. You and Alistair barely speak. We have barely spoken in a great time."

There was an easy answer to that last. "I'd rather not be making Alistair jealous. Besides," I added quickly, "I think he's still mad about what I said about Eamon and about backing us out of Ostagar."

Leliana didn't answer for a moment but clearly considered my words as she sipped her own tea. "Alistair has no cause to be jealous, but I will remind him of that," she finally said. Firmly, not angrily. Maybe a little amused. "But you are right: he is upset about Ostagar. There was much there of value to him."

"I did promise to come back when this is all over."

"Yet you do not know if you can keep that promise." Red gave me a funny look. "The future is weighing heavily upon you, no?"

"It's weighing heavily on all of us."

The look got funnier. "It seems to be weighing most heavily on you."

I bit down (gently) on my tongue then took a sip of tea to avoid saying that I know what's coming. I did, OTOH, cryptically say, "I feel like my doom's approaching."

The look went from funny to soft. "We all do. Try not to fret."

"Easier said than done."

"This is true. But for now you should live on day at a time. The future will bring what the Maker wills."

"And that's the problem."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

_To his Majesty, King Cailan of Ferelden: _

_My Warden-Commander assures me that we face a Blight. This thing threatens us both, and we must work together to fight it, lest it devour all. Our two nations have not had a happy history, but that is all it is: history. It is the future that is at stake now. Let us put aside our fathers' disagreements so that we may secure a future for both our countries. _

_My Chevaliers stand ready and will accompany the Grey Wardens of Orlais to Ferelden. At your word the might of Orlais will march to reinforce the Ferelden forces. _

_Sincerely, Empress Celene I_

Alistair looked up from the letter. "That's it," he said quietly.

Neria spoke slowly. "I don't understand. I thought the Warden commander told us there isn't a Blight."

"He did."

"Why?"

Alistair's answer was just as slow. "If I was suspicious I'd say Celene lied in order to get Orlesian troops into Ferelden. What do you think?"

That was addressed to me even though Alistair didn't quite meet my eye when he asked.

I thought about it for a moment and came up with a couple of not-so-pretty answers. "You certainly could be right." Sigh. "Or the Orlesian commander could have lied to us to get us to stand down." With all that implies.

Alistair had a solid rebuttal. "But Grey Wardens are above politics. At least where darkspawn are concerned."

"And we haven't heard of any Orlesian Grey Wardens running around," Neria added.

"Except for the ones he sent. Well, said he sent."

"And if he thought there was really a Blight on I think there'd be a lot more Wardens in Ferelden right now." I shook my head. "I think you're right to be suspicious. Of the Orlesians, that is."

Alistair didn't look very happy. He bit down on his lip and read the letter again. Then he huffed and slowly folded the letter then tucked it back into the pouch he'd found it in. "I need to think about this for a bit. Okay?"

* * *

><p><strong>25 Firstfall, evening<strong>

"Stand down! Can't you fools tell they're not darkspawn?" The sergeant in charge of the idiots manning the barricade in the town we approached redirected his attention to us. "Maker's breath! Where did you lot come from?"

I don't really blame them for mistaking us for darkspawn. We were filthy from a couple of weeks on the road, beat up from our own encounters with darkspawn, and just plain tired and hungry on top of that. As we'd walked up the guards had reacted the way you'd expect a bunch of guards to react to a wild-looking bunch walking out of the forest. They'd readied weapons, called for backup, and looked a bit too nervous for our own good.

But their sergeant jogged up, assessed the situation, and backed them down while laying about with fists and curses. He invited us into town, answered our questions about food, beds, and baths, and walked us past plenty of curious eyes on the way to said items.

We didn't fail to notice he was wearing Ferelden and, therefore, by extension, Loghain's livery.

* * *

><p>And then things got a little tense.<p>

First was the innkeeper. He looked at the coins on the table, counted them on his fingers, and came up with a smaller total than he was willing to settle for. "We can't eat copper," he said flatly.

Neria had laid a small handful of coins in front of him. "But-"

"Harvest should have been better. And those soldiers are eating everything they can find. Food's not dear, but it's getting there."

Neria shrugged, dug deep into a pocket, and dropped a small gold coin on the pile. "That better?"

I don't wanna play poker with the innkeeper. "Can't eat gold, either, but there's folks as think they can. That'll do."

That got us a couple of rooms, directions to a bath house, and, eventually, a thin, greasy mystery meat stew and some sour bread that was enough to even fill up three Grey Wardens, a kossith, a dwarf, an elf, and a human.

"Hurf!"

And a Mabari. (Although I think the innkeeper has a soft spot for the dog; he's been gnawing on something interesting for the last hour.)

But at least we're really full for the first time in a while, even if this dinner is likely to cause some gastrointestinal distress at an unspecified but likely not-too-far-off later time.

The second tense thing was the Ferelden officer who approached us at dinner. He was a short, brown-haired man who (like us) looked like he hadn't been getting either enough sleep or food. He approached us quietly with his sergeant in tow, waited for the innkeeper to leave us a pitcher, and gave us a once-over. Then a twice-over. His eyes stopped on Alistair. "You're the Grey Warden from Ostagar Teryn Loghain wants."

We reacted as you'd expect: we stood as one and reached for knives, mugs, chairs; basically anything that would make a handy weapon.

The officer raised his hands quickly. "No worries from me, but you might want to keep quiet while you're here; there's a sizeable reward for you." He looked back at his sergeant. "That goes for you, too."

The sergeant nodded.

"Fine by me," Oghren mumbled. He set his chair back down, climbed into it, and went back to eating.

The rest of us looked around the table at each other, shrugged as a group, and returned to our seats.

The officer nodded to an empty spot. "If I may?"

Another round of shrugs.

"My thanks. Allow me to present myself: I'm Hargin Smithson." He took a seat; his sergeant remained standing. "And you are…?"

Alistair cleared his throat. "And I'm the Grey Warden Alistair; this is the Grey Warden Neria. And yes, I was at Ostagar, but things didn't happen the way Loghain says they did."

Hargin inclined his head. "Warden, I was at Ostagar, too, and _I_ don't know everything that happened there. What I do know is that Teryn Loghain got us out of there alive." He let out a tense breath. "But I've been here since then and I've seen the darkspawn coming out of the forest and I have a hard time believing you – well, the Wardens – would just let those monsters have us. Not from what I know of the Wardens. And I've heard a bit of what you've done since Ostagar."

Alistair inclined his head in return and gave a rueful smile. "Don't believe everything you hear, but you're right: we didn't betray anyone. We-"

Neria jumped in. "We'll be glad to tell you the whole story another time, but for now we need food and rest and a bath. If we can get one."

Hargin gave Neria a curious look. "I understand, ser. But again, I caution you: stay quiet. I support Teryn Loghain, but I also support the Wardens. Not everybody here is as divided as I am. Rest tonight, but move on early in the morn. I'll keep the curious at bay, but word does get out."

Neria gave him a seated bow. "We understand, and thank you, ser."

Hargin took us all in. "Maker bless you all and watch over you. May you go and do his work."

"You are not a Templar, are you?" Leliana asked.

After giving us the blessing Hargin had gratefully reached for the pitcher. He held off pouring as he answered. "No, but my family felt fit to offer me to the Chantry. I managed to convince my father I wasn't cut of Templar cloth. But I am devout in my own way."

Leliana nodded. "I see. And may the Maker watch over you."

"Thank you."

Hargin poured and took a drink of the acceptable winter lager and then just started talking. Not about anything in particular; just pleasantly generic dinner time conversation. At least until Neria and Alistair finished eating. That's when the three of them got up and walked outside to discuss some things in private. I didn't mind being left out of the loop; we're still keeping my status secret. I don't know what they talked about, but when they returned Alistair looked relaxed, Neria looked satisfied, and Hargin looked relieved. I guess we'll go over it when we hit the road again tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>26 Firstfall, morning<strong>

I summoned the rifle, waved off Thing's questioning hisses (and Majel's incomprehensible translations), and started down the road that lead from the bubble. The landscape slowly changed from surreally chic desert into low-res town; I slowed my pace and started casting about until I found the Fade version of the inn. I stopped, got my bearings, and looked around. As expected, I saw a light that meant a mage was nearby, but I was pretty sure it wasn't Neria.

It wasn't who I was expecting to find, though.

An elf – an older teenager, I think – in green mage robes meandered out of a random building gawking at our surroundings. He looked around open-mouthed as he took things in then froze open-mouthed when he saw Thing and me.

I waved. "Uh, hi."

[greeting hiss]

The elf didn't bother returning the greeting. He made an earth-bending move and sent a blast of rock at me. He was probably going for Thing, but with the angle he was gonna get a twofer.

I hunkered down and raised my free arm and tried to turn away but the rocks connected with the shield that was suddenly on my arm. I blocked and deflected most of the rocks but the impact sent me rolling backwards. I heard Thing's angered hisses and Majel sounded pretty ticked off.

I shook off the blow and sat up as Thing hissed again. "No, you stay here. I'll try to talk to him myself."

Thing's hiss was more urgent.

"What? Oh, shit."

Thing had a claw pointing into the Fade-town surrounding us; behind and beyond the buildings a black cloud was approaching.

It was whispering to me.

"Get outta here."

[questioning hiss]

The shield had disappeared; I waved my arm and starting walking towards the cloud. "Go."

I could make out smoky, humanoid shapes that didn't quite coalesce into anything distinct, but when I raised the rifle and shot them they burst and dissipated into other cloud spawn. The figures hissed as they dispersed but the cloud's voice came together.

"Join us."

"No."

"Embrace us."

"No."

"Follow us."

"No."

The grenade I shot exploded right where I aimed it and cloud blew apart in a spray of dirt and wispy corruption.

And then it reformed even faster and rushed me. I nearly fumbled the reload on the grenade but managed to get it locked. I aimed at my feet and pulled the trigger. A real grenade wouldn't explode from a shot that close, but this was the dream world. Unfortunately, the cloud was faster. I heard the launcher's _chunk_, heard a sharp crack, and felt everything go hot and dark.

Fire from my arm. A snarling, hissing growl of welcome. A scream from an unblessed. The tearing of a brother being killed. An unblessed disappearing behind a spray of delicious blood. The scent of a breeder. The crunch of marrow. A sudden, heavy pressure holding me down. A wordless voice in my ear. And a brother's voice warm and wet and familiar in my ear.

"Jeff! Wake up!"

The voice was high-pitched and clear and somewhere in the back of my head I recognized it. I growled an answer that even I didn't understand and the pressure let up.

"He's okay; let him up."

The pressure disappeared. Part of me wanted to rend apart the unblessed that had dared touch me; most of me understood Zevran was just trying to keep me restrained. "I'm okay," I muttered.

"Are you certain, mio amico?"

I suddenly realized Neria was in the room with us. "I'm okay." I even kinda believed myself.

"He's okay, Zevran."

"You're certain you're well?"

"I'm okay."

"He's okay."

There was a flicker as a knife disappeared and another flicker from the elf's teeth. "Okay." The usual lilt of amusement was missing from his voice.

"Come on," Neria said quietly. She grabbed an arm and pulled me up. Her hand was shaking.

I staggered around and found some clothes but didn't get dressed; Neria was pulling out of the room.

"Bad dream, mio capo bella?"

"Bad enough," Neria said as we got out of the room.

Somehow I made my way to the common room. Neria didn't have anything to say but she summoned a little ball of light and held it over my arm. There were black streaks radiating from the scar there; they faded as I examined them.

Neria waited for the streaks to disappear. "It was bad for me too. Alistair's okay, though." She turned and headed back to her room.

I let her go then got dressed. And somehow, reflex I guess, I'd grabbed my diary. I opened it and took a fresh look at the note I'd found.

_When you next dream of the Fade seek me out - M_

I think a different approach is in order. Going back into the Fade is not something I want to do anytime in the foreseeable future. Yeah, the dream was bad, but the problem wasn't the dream itself. The problem was I enjoyed it.


	91. Goodbye and Hello

**26 Firstfall, morning and later**

We (expensively) resupplied and hit the road again this morning. We're not as refreshed as we could be, but we've made pretty good time so far.

Trouble is things are definitely not going to plan. At least that's the impression I got when Neria and Alistair back-briefed us on their talk with Hargin last night.

Loghain's "supposed" to be dealing with a rebellion and darkspawn incursions, but based on what Hargin said Ferelden (eastern Ferelden, at least) is pretty much behind Loghain, so he's been able to concentrate on the darkspawn. A few arlings are standing against him, but there's no organized resistance to Loghain's regency. The only real dissent is about whether or not there's really a Blight going on. But regardless of what they believe folks like Hargin see the Grey Wardens as honorable; others (generally instigated by Loghain) are worried about the Orlesians using the darkspawn as an excuse to reinvade Ferelden. And others (Howe) are using the political instability to strengthen their own positions. And the bounty is still out on the Wardens and their companions, with a bonus for the apostates. (Guess that means there's double-bounty one on me, too.)

"So Loghain has made himself king," Alistair grumbled.

"Regent," Neria corrected.

"Same thing."

"Anora's still the queen."

Alistair scowled. "I don't think that matters."

"It does," I said.

Alistair glared at me.

"That's his daughter, right? You think he's going to do anything to endanger her?"

"He would to seize the throne!"

"No. He seized the throne to keep her safe. I don't think – know – if it will, but that's what's driving him." I think. I hope.

Alistair kept up the glare. "Do you really believe that?"

Shrug. "It's the best answer I can come up with."

"So he let Cailan die to keep Anora safe?"

I winced; that was a damn good point. "I hope not."

"So why did he let Cailan die?"

Again, I think I know the answer, but I couldn't meet Alistair's eye. "I'm hoping it was to save half the army."

Beat.

Alistair finally nodded. "Right." He got up and walked away.

Sigh. I started to stand up but Neria caught my arm.

"Don't. I…." She looked worried.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Alistair. He's barely spoken to me since- Well, you know."

Yeah, I knew. I dropped the volume on my voice. "Well, he is almost a Templar, and he spent years learning blood magic is dangerous and evil and responsible for everything bad that mages do."

That wasn't intended to be a joke, but Neria smiled a little. Then the smile dropped. "What about you? Doesn't it…?"

"No. Well, I don't think so." I shook my firmly and quickly. "No. You're still you, right?"

Neria smiled again.

I kept going. "Yeah, you are. No. It doesn't bother me. Or maybe I'm just too stupid about it to be scared by it. But I trust you, and I guess that's what matters. Alistair does, too. Just give him some time." I started to stand up again as I finished.

Neria caught my arm again. "Don't go. Would you mind staying and talking for a little while?"

I took a careful look at Neria. She looked hopeful and desperate and lonely. Same way I felt, except for the hopeful.

I gave her a little smile and plopped back down. "Sure." I glanced over to where Alistair was unhappily speaking with Leliana. "Speaking of Templars, I didn't see any, did you?"

Head shake. "Hargin said most of them were called to Denerim. Only a couple stayed behind to guard the Chantry and the sisters."

"That means something. I'm just not sure what."

Neria shrugged. "Maybe the Chantry's taking the Blight seriously."

"I hope so. We could use the help."

"I'm not sure I want Templar help."

"We gotta take what we can get."

Neria considered that for a moment. "Guess you're right. But Templars? They're more used to shouting at mages than fighting darkspawn." A little quarter-laugh. "Maybe they can shout at the darkspawn mages."

I gave a little smile of my own. "At least they'd be useful then."

"Maybe."

"Maybe."

We stared at each other in silence for a minute then I tried standing up again.

Neria shook her head. "Don't go."

"We need to get moving."

"Yeah, but...Cullen!"

"Rower?"

"Go get the chessboard."

"Erf!"

I gave Neria a questioning look.

She smiled thinly but (I think) sincerely. "We'll get a late start."

* * *

><p><strong>27 Firstfall, morning<strong>

Guard duty. Still necessary, although we haven't dealt with any darkspawn overnight since just after bypassing Lothering. Even that wasn't a big deal, but there's always the possibility a big group could come across us, and the worry that the Archdemon could show up and be done with us. As always the three Wardens are splitting shifts, but the others pull their shifts based on draws. And with that in mind…

"Neria, you mind if I borrow Cullen for this shift?"

She stretched in the dark and I heard a yawn. "Problem?"

"I'm on with Oghren."

There was a smile in her voice. "Ah. Cullen, do you mind?"

[resigned, yawning groan]

"Thanks. Come on, boy." I turned away but stopped.

"Jeff, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"You've been keeping to yourself and you're not talking much."

"I know, but…."

"Are you okay?"

Sigh. "I think so, but I can feel doom approaching."

Beat, then a whispered reply. "So do I."

There wasn't much I could say to that except let out another sigh, this one heavy. "Try to get some sleep."

"I'll try."

"Come on, Cullen."

We made our way back over to where Oghren had stationed himself. The dwarf was standing next to a tree, but not leaning on it, and that made the snoring coming from his helmet all the more baffling. I reached out and _clanked_ him (gently) on the head.

"Sod off, shaper! I'm alert!"

"The snoring tells me otherwise."

"Yeah? Well, I woke up when you asked!"

"The point of guard duty is to be awake without being asked."

"I've pulled guard duty before; I know what I'm doing. You saying I don't?"

"I'm saying you need to keep your ass awake."

"I'll keep my ass alert. And I know how to do that! Now sod off!"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Fine."

"I saw that! Do like I said and sod off!"

I repeated the expressions as I turned away. "I'm gonna make some rounds. I'll check in with you later."

"Whatever. Sodding…I know how…rutting…[gurgle]…"

[friendly panting]

"Get away from me, stone-licker!"

"Come on, Cullen!"

"Hurf!"

There was a scrape of metal and sudden scurrying then the thumps of oversized dog feet as the Mabari fell in beside me. We skirted around the camp in the direction we'd come from during the day.

I looked down but couldn't quite see the dog. "I've got a job for you," I said to the shadow.

"Hurn?"

"Remember Morrigan?"

[happy panting]

"I think she's close by. Think you can find her?"

[sharp, affirmative bark]

"Shh! Don't wake the others."

"Er-rwer."

"Let's go."

Cullen took off so quickly that even with my night-adjusted eyes he disappeared in a few seconds. But I could hear his galumphing run and feel him receding away so I hustled after him as quickly and as quietly as I could.

It didn't take long. Cullen zigzagged back along the path we'd taken during the day, suddenly stopped, _huffed_ quietly, and moved straight at our quarry. I thought he was gonna jump Morrigan, but a tiny light flared up on the Mabari's nose and he let out a little yelp then started happily hopping.

Morrigan huffed as she doused the light. "Off me, you foul beast," but there was no real heat in her words. "And you: show yourself."

I answered softly. "Should have known you'd be expecting us."

It was too dark to see anything but Morrigan's shadow. "Your dreams are more dangerous than I had realized. I felt it necessary to leave you to your own devices. I thought you might choose this course instead."

I shuddered as I remembered the last dream. "You probably made the smart choice. But-"

"You are wondering why I summoned you?"

"Not really. I'm guessing you wanted to talk about Flemeth."

Morrigan inhaled sharply. "'Twas your decision, no? Had I not warned you of usurping control over this group?"

"It was everybody's decision. Well, almost everybody's."

"Interesting." Morrigan huffed again. "No matter; I am sure Neria heeded your words above the others. And now I must contend with watching for Flemeth."

I shook my head uselessly. "Do you think getting killed would do more than just inconvenience her?"

"At least she would be inconvenienced!" Morrigan snapped off each word. The next words were calmer. "I have…plans. And I would prefer to not be faced with watching for Flemeth while enacting them."

I thought back for a second. "Well, the last I saw Flemeth was headed south. And she told Neria she wouldn't – Neria wouldn't see her again. If you're with us you'd be safer."

Snort. "As if any of you would see Flemeth coming should she not wish it." And then her voice softened. "No. You – the Wardens – are simple enough for Flemeth to follow, and though some of your company may be pleasant I do not desire to spend that time watching my back."

"So why follow us?"

The voice tightened up. "I spoke harshly to Neria. Convey my apologies to her."

"Convey them yourself."

Morrigan was quiet for a few seconds then spoke sharply again. "If I must, but I will leave that decision to you."

"Morrigan, please -"

"Do not beg; it does not become you."

"I was going to ask you to reconsider, but-" Sigh.

"I doubt you have the words to sway me."

"So do I."

Morrigan just barely chuckled, but spoke seriously. "Again, I ask you to convey my apologies to Neria. She has been…dear."

I waited a few seconds. "That's it?"

"Tell her – and the others, if you choose – that I will be present should you confront the Archdemon. I believe I have insights into how it may be defeated."

I'm sure she does. But, "I don't suppose you'd like to share those before you hit the road."

Beat, and Morrigan shifted almost invisibly in the darkness. "Those insights will not be of use until the Archdemon is actually confronted. Should you fail to do so I will offer that knowledge to others."

I'm sure she would.

"But until then," Morrigan continued, "you will suffer my absence." There were some unspoken words punctuated with, "Now begone."

"You sure about this?"

"I am certain. Begone."

I sighed and turned away. "Another time then."

Beat. "Another time."

I started walking. "Come on, Cullen."

Another beat then a meaty thump. "Begone." Her voice was tight and quiet.

It didn't take long to make my way back to camp, although it didn't hurt to have Cullen keeping me on track. I made my way to where I'd left Oghren and growled to myself as I saw him standing motionless exactly where I'd left him. On top of that I could hear him snoring.

"Fucking a, man," I grumbled. I walked up and smacked him on the side of the helmet. "I thought I told you gah!"

The armor _clanked_ hollowly when I hit it and the entire suit fell over with another, louder _clank._

But the snoring stopped and Oghren staggered out from behind a nearby tree. "Gotcha, shaper! Serves you right, too! Rutting [dwarvish] thinks I don't know how to stand watch."

I waved my middle finger more or less in the dwarf's direction. "Piss off."

"Heh. Think I will. Come on, stonelicker; I found one of those fuzzy nugs that're good eating."

* * *

><p><strong>27 Firstfall, morning<strong>

Alistair scowled. Neria just set her jaw. I frowned at them and waited.

They took their time but Alistair finally spoke. "She's 'sorry'? Ugh. The bitch. I knew she was-"

"Enough, Alistair." Neria's voice was just resigned. "At least she said that much."

Another long silence broken by Alistair. "Did she at least say anything about defeating the Archdemon?"

Time for deceptive honesty. "Only what I told you."

A shorter silence this time. "Neria, if ever we do see her again please punch her in the nose."

Neria smiled grimly. "Right."

"So now what?"

"So now we go get the Dalish on our side. Unless either of you can think of anything better."

"Not offhand," I answered. "And we're gonna need the elves."

Alistair's scowl had broken and he was looking worried. "You really think so?"

"Oh, yeah."

"You think they and the dwarves will be enough?"

"They better be."

Neria sighed. "Will they be worth the trouble?"

"They better be."

* * *

><p><strong>27 Firstfall, evening<strong>

Sometime today we ended up in the Brecilian Forest. It's not a civilized forest like at home where you have to actively go out looking for a forest and then suddenly it's there behind a convenient sign and a fence. This is a proper old-growth forest that kinda sneaks up on you and suddenly you realize all the trees are more than the sum of their parts. Over the last couple of days the stands of trees have grown thicker and closer together and then there were no more stands but instead forest lightly peppered with patches of open ground. And those patches have been getting fewer and farther between.

It's peaceful, at least. The wind doesn't blow as hard down on the ground as it does in the canopy, so we're all happy for that. It's quiet; the trees seem to muffle the sounds of everything, even our travel noises. And it's _really_ dark at night, at least under the trees, and I can't see the moonlight filtering down in here because the sunlight barely does even though most of the branches are bare of leaves.

And then there were the elves. Dalish, of course. The first Dalish most of us have seen, although I have the impression they've seen their share of humans. There were six of them (that we could see), men and women both, and all wearing heavy, thigh-length (nope, no bare midriffs), leather tunics that looked heavy enough to double as light armor. Along with trousers and cloaks; they were taking into account the weather. All but one had bows strung and arrows nocked as we approached, but they exercised calm, if suspicious, restraint as they eyed us.

The suspicion was mostly reserved for the humans. Zevran got suspicious and disdainful looks. Oghren was greeted politely but coolly. Sten got the same politeness along with a lot of curious stares.

And then Neria showed them the treaty.

That got their attention. The leader reassessed Neria then bowed slightly to her ("Warden."), and the six went into a huddle. I heard Dalish being fired back and forth, heads popped up a couple of times, and after about one minute the huddle broke.

The elves reorganized themselves into a loose semicircle around the leader. He bowed again and pointed roughly northeast. "Travel that way. Speak to others as you have spoken to us and word, and eventually you, will find Zathrian."

Neria shot me a glance; I just gave a told-you-so look in response.

The elf continued. "He speaks for the Dalish in this matter. Tread cautiously; banalhanlen(sp?) walk the woods. You call them darkspawn."

The group's unspoken response was, "Meh, more darkspawn."

Neria smiled. "Darkspawn would do well to avoid us, but our thanks – uh, ma seranas, for the warning."

The elf tilted his head then inclined it but kept his face blank. "A rare courtesy. Well, then: andaran ateeshan, Warden, and your companions."

And with that the elves reshouldered their packs and lifted the handles on their pull carts and with absolutely no further ado headed off in the direction we'd come from. We silently watched them go until they disappeared around a bend in the road.

Neria indicated the direction the elves had indicated. "That way. Let's go."

We hefted our own gear and got moving. But not without a final word from Alistair. "See, I told you wearing the tabards was a good idea."

* * *

><p><strong>28 Firstfall, evening<strong>

Neria's staff sent out enough light to clearly illuminate our camp. Most of us sighed; we weren't going to be able to stay, and that meant packing up and moving out in the dark.

Sten looked up from where he was wiping blood off Asala. "Perhaps it is best we killed these creatures. They appeared to be suffering."

Oghren was cleaning his axe. "[dwarvish] sodding Tainted stonelicking [dwarvish]."

We'd been rushed by a pack of Tainted wolves. Maybe feral dogs, but probably not. They were dangerous, but even with most of us out of our armor the creatures were completely outclassed. Shields and swords beat teeth and hides. The fight was messy, but for the animals.

And Sten's right: they did appear to be suffering under the Taint. Their skin is scabby and covered with oozing sores, joints are swollen, and teeth are literally bursting out of their mouth. I remember the pain I was in when I got infected; makes me feel sorry for the wolves.

Something else happened, though. We'd all been sitting close to the fire when Alistair, Neria, and I all started at the same time. All three of us alerted each other with a 'Hey! Something's out there!' shout that was completely subconscious. Our heads snapped up and, in unison, we looked in the same direction. Not at each other, but off into the night-blackened trees at the incoming threat. And then the instant was immediately over. It was almost like clicking a warning pop-up on your desktop, except instead of taking care of whatever we were being warned about we just looked back and forth at each other in a 'What just happened?' moment.

"So what did happen?" Alistair asked as we set up the new camp. "I've never heard of anything like this."

"Avernus' potion. Had to be," was my answer. And then I started swearing at the tent rope I was trying to stake off.

Neria raised her staff and better illuminated the scene. "Why didn't this happen sooner?"

"I don't know. Maybe we needed a third? Maybe it took this long to kick in? I could guess, but that's all I'd be doing." I got the rope tied off. "Just take good care of those potions."

"I will." Neria turned then turned back to us. "This had better be all it does; I'd hate to have you two in my thoughts."

I felt myself heating up. Alistair started coughing.

Neria laughed softly. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Get some sleep."

* * *

><p><strong>29 Firstfall, afternoon<strong>

The kinda-road we'd been following ended up turning into a footpath that turned into a game trail that turned into a single track that petered out and left us with no clue about which way to go. We looked around, looked at each other, shrugged, and plowed straight ahead and more or less northeast. Not that the going was tough; there was plenty of space to get through the trees and undergrowth. There just wasn't anything to confirm we were going the right way.

Until we ran into the Dalish, that is.

Zevran noticed them first. He drifted back from his position at point to quietly warn us about our shadow.

"Should we be worried?" Neria asked. She did have the presence of mind to just keep walking rather than look around.

"I would think not. The Dalish tend to be curious, if cautious, and usually don't shoot before asking questions." Shrug. "Usually."

Neria glanced at me and got a mostly nonchalant shrug in return.

"Well," she said, "if they want to talk they know where we are. Just keep moving."

"But," I added, "let's try not to antagonize them."

Zevran gave me an eyebrow.

I just shook my head. "You heard the lady: just keep moving."

"Si, mio capo bella."

Leliana eventually eased up and spoke quietly to Neria. I didn't catch the words, but they were probably talking about the same topic Zevran had raised. I swiveled my head around but didn't see anything. Not that I was expecting to.

Sten _crunched_ up behind me. "We are being followed." His rumble was almost a whisper.

"I know." Shrug. "I'd be surprised if we weren't."

Beat. "Does this not bother you?"

I thought about that for a moment. I wasn't bothered. I should've been. I'm guessing if things had gone bad I'd be dead before I realized it. Don't know why I wasn't bothered. Just accepting of fate, I think. "No, I guess not."

Sten radiated disapproval.

"And it's not like we can do anything about it anyway."

"We should confront them."

"Not your call."

Sten was silent for another moment. "Agreed. Warden!"

Neria stopped and turned around. She looked a little harried. "Sten?"

"We should confront those about us."

Neria tilted her head and had a ding moment. "Okay."

"Truly?"

"Truly." Neria clapped her hands together. "Everybody hold up!" She exaggeratedly looked around then called out, "Hello! We're Grey Wardens and we just want to talk!"

There was silence except for the gurgling from Oghren's flask.

"Please?"

Still no answer, although I _thought_ I saw something move about fifty yards away.

"We're looking for Zathrian!"

Oghren belched.

"They'll never come out now," Alistair quipped.

"Sod off!"

Neria sighed. "Alistair's right. Let's go."

Sten stayed with me for a few minutes. "I believe they are still there." Rumble. "I do not like this."

I answered matter-of-factly. "Not much we can do about it."

Beat then a snort. "You are correct. Action is upon them. I will be ready, however."

* * *

><p><strong>30 Firstfall, morning<strong>

Like I said: it gets dark quick in the forest. (Or should that be 'Forest'?) And it stays dark. If you don't have electric lights the night holds a lot of power. You can light a fire, and maybe some candles, but darkness palpably presses in on you until you feel helpless while wondering what's actually out there watching you stumble around in your little photonic oasis.

Except in this case I can relax and close my eyes and extend my senses. Neria and Alistair and Cullen are bright sparks in the back of my head, and I'm not getting any alerts from them. If there's darkspawn further out I can't feel them, although I'm pretty sure the elves that I'm very sure are watching us would take care of any darkspawn before they get too close.

But that's provided the elves give that much of a damn about us. Other hand consideration: the darkspawn are much more of an existential threat to the elves than we are. Gripping hand consideration: we're not dead yet. And that's almost always a good thing.

* * *

><p><strong>1 Haring, noon<strong>

We're not feeling the time crunch yet but we're getting there, and a new month makes us more aware of it. Spring is coming, and time keeps on slipping into the future.

So after an unheated acknowledgement of the available time winding down we set out through the trees again, following the occasional game trail and somewhat rarer footpaths but, overall, moving more or less northeast in a more or less orderly fashion.

And yes, our shadow was still there. Very discreetly most of the time, not so much after we found a cart track that led to a sturdy little wooden bridge spanning a slow-flowing creek. We started across the bridge without any hesitation or precautions but ended up stopping, completely exposed, when a pair of bow-armed elves appeared at the far side.

I confirmed my suspicions about the encounter by doing a three-sixty. Sten had done the same; there was another pair of elves behind us. We weren't all on the bridge, but enough of us were, and if my other suspicions were correct there at least two arrows aimed at every one of us.

"Greetings," Zevran said brightly.

"Wanna drink?" Oghren asked.

Neither elf recoiled from Oghren's offer although one of them did wrinkle his nose. All the elves are skinny (even skinnier than Zevran) and have the same lean and hungry look we're all carrying right now. They're dressed pretty plainly: a leather tank top and skirt over leather (I think) shirts and pants, but, as before, the armor doesn't reveal any bellies. In fact, they were wearing leather and metal belts that provide extra protection for the midriff. And the armor is camouflaged with a stippled brown and green pattern that would probably be more effective in spring and summer, although their cloaks have some grey and white cloth sewn into them. Bows, quivers, long daggers, and some individualized jewelry completed their ensemble. Unlike the traders we'd met these guys were ready to fight. It was a war party.

But they weren't there to fight. The nose-wrinkler shook his head. "No, durgenlen, but my thanks for the offer." He looked to Neria. "You are a Grey Warden?"

Neria bowed. "I am."

The elf scanned us. "The stories claim there are two of you."

Alistair raised a hand. "I am, too. A Warden, that is."

The elf stared then glared at Alistair then returned his attention to Neria. "The Templar?" The scorn was palpable.

Alistair answered before Neria could. "I trained as a Templar but never took the vows."

"And yet you wear the armor of a Templar."

Alistair blushed a little. "That's a long story, but I'm not a Templar, and I don't represent the Chantry. In any way."

"Warden?"

"It's true."

The elf didn't seem convinced. But, "Will you vouch for this…_Warden_ and his behavior?"

"Hey!"

Neria nodded seriously. "I will."

"And will you vouch for the rest of your companions?"

"I will," was the immediate answer.

The elf still didn't seem convinced. But, "Very well. Zathrian extends his invitation. Please, accompany us."

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

My suspicions were wrong; there were at least three arrows aimed at every one of us. I've counted 20 elves, more or less; they keep rotating around so there's no more than half their number in sight of us at any time. The total number is split evenly between men and women of varying ages; there's a couple fresh-faced teenagers (or at least that's what they look like) all the way up to an elderly-looking grandfather type (who still moves like a deer [or maybe a mountain lion]). Even the (probable) leader is part of the rotation. I don't think they trust us.

My count's pretty good, but what's throwing it off is the elves' similarity to each other. Despite the facial differences they all have pretty much the same body type. Both men and women are about five feet tall, take (no give) a couple of inches, and all have the hard, slim build of gymnasts. And they're dressed pretty much identically; the only exceptions appear to be the jewelry and weapons. Of course, this bunch could be the elvish equivalent of a special ops platoon, but I'll figure that out later. Anyway…

One of the elves, a woman who looked the human equivalent (home verse) of being in her mid-thirties slid into step with me. But she has a hard, bitter look about her that could make her seem older than she is. I caught her eye and gave her a nod; she wrinkled her nose and moved upwind of both Bill and me. It didn't appear to help; she kept wrinkling her nose as we spoke.

"Shemlen," she said with careful neutrality. She'd tried to not make it sound like an insult. She waited.

"Ma'am," I finally answered.

She looked very briefly confused at that but continued. "I am Limil [sp?], first to [elvish word] Cand."

"That's your leader, right?"

"He is."

So I'm pretty sure I was speaking to the platoon sergeant. "Good to meet you. And my name's Jeff."

Limil wrinkled her nose again and moved about half a step further away. "The armor you're wearing; it has Grey Warden livery upon it. Are you a Grey Warden?"

Good eyes; I've got a blank tabard over the armor. Cuts down on the cold getting through, and provides some concealment for the marks. "Uh…"

"The mage is a Warden. The Templar is a Warden. And yet word has reached us of two, and three, and even four Grey Wardens before being told there are but two. We would know the truth."

I thought about that for a moment. We've been keeping my status a secret from everybody possible. It may not mean much in the long run, but keeping that bit of info hidden may give us an advantage somewhere down the road. Then again, maybe it won't. But it certainly doesn't hurt to conceal your advantages (if my being a Warden is even that much of an advantage) even if there's no obvious reason to. But…

Gripping hand consideration: the elves barely trust us, if at all. Maybe telling them will help; maybe it won't. But I couldn't see any upside to hiding the info and did see the downside. I didn't look to Neria; I just made the decision and ran with it.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

There was a beat as Limil added another step to the distance between us. "I see. I would know why you would conceal this."

Easy answer. I pretty much dumped my thought process then added the bit about Loghain putting a bounty on the Wardens.

Limil nodded. "Prudent, I suppose. I will tell Cand of this, and spread the word no further, but Cand will share the knowledge as he deems fit."

I nodded. "Fair enough."

Limil then gave my shield a pointed look. "That appears to be of Templar make, but doesn't have the mark upon it. Are you a Templar?"

I silently thanked Caridin for the repair job. "No. I took it from a Templar, though. If that means anything."

Limil considered that for a couple dozen steps then nodded in return. "Ma seranas, Jeff. Until another time." She sped up her pace but not before her nose wrinkled again.

I guess either Bill or I (or both of us) need a bath.

* * *

><p>The elves are aloof. They keep as much distance as possible from us, and I haven't failed to notice they're staying upwind as much as practical. I'm not sure if they're simply leading, escorting, or actually guarding us as they lead us on. Probably a bit of all three. Especially where Alistair's concerned; he's been the subject of openly hostile looks. The rest of us are being treated, in general, disdainfully, except for Sten. He's actually the subject of some genuine curiosity ("We have never met your kind.") and has had a couple short discussions with Cand and Limil.<p>

So with all that in mind Zevran is one smooth sonofabitch. I went back to our tent; there's a bright yellow silk hanky tied over the pole. (And I have no idea where he got it from or how it's stayed so clean.) And the sounds of rutting coming from inside. At least he also put my blankets outside. Sigh. Guess I get the first guard shift.

* * *

><p><em>AN: been a while since I've done these, huh? But I'm not going to say much here except that _Dragon Age: Inquisition_ gets released tonight. Guess I know what I'll be doing instead of writing. Sigh._


	92. Off the Rails

**2 Haring, morning**

"This is one heavy sonofabitch."

I kinda-eased but mostly dropped the M98 Widow into a braced position and started tying it off. And down. And around. The recoil I was expecting made me do an extra-careful job securing it, especially since I had no idea what would happen when I pulled the trigger.

"All right, let's give it a shot."

I flicked the switch labeled 'Main' and was rewarded with an inaudible whine and undetectable vibrations. Some status lights cycled from amber to green; the 'Ready' light on the HUD remained red. I released the safety but the light stayed red; I racked the charging handle and the light turned green.

I waved at Thing "Take cover." I got down behind a rock and eased the slack out of the firing rope. I checked Thing again; he was hunkered down. "Fire in the hole."

I yanked the rope.

The M98 coughed. Literally. The sound wasn't louder than a cough, and sounded a lot like one. I looked at Thing but he didn't have anything to say.

"Crap."

Protocol for a weapon misfire is to wait five minutes before checking it. My count got to sixty before I lost patience and peeked out from cover. The 'Ready' light was back to red, but nothing else had changed.

"Hmm…."

I looked at the pillar I'd aimed the rifle at. It was distressingly whole and had a bright orange spot on it.

"Ooookay."

I walked back over to the rifle and got a better look at the orange spot through the sight. I snorted, safed the rifle, and powered it down. And then (staying out of the line of fire) walked over and took a very close look at the orange spot.

"Son. Of. A. Bitch."

I pulled the Nerf dart off the pillar and walked back over to the rifle. Power up, safety off, weapon charged, and fire. By hand this time. Another cough, and another orange spot on the pillar.

"Well, hell."

[skeptical hiss]

"* e9h[5 ty8hi 5yq5[w t98ht 59 g3 f346 3rr3d58f3l"

"Bend over. Both of you."

* * *

><p><strong>Noon<strong>

"So," Neria asked, "what are they going to want from us?"

"Something," I answered. "Look at them. They're in charge right now, and they still look worried."

"Si, mio capo bella. They are watching the forest around us as much as they're watching us."

Neria looked around. "But not darkspawn. They haven't mentioned any, and we haven't felt any."

"It is something else," Leliana said firmly. "Before leaving Lothering I had heard vague rumors – very vague rumors - of something preying on the elves. Most believed it was bears or wolves, or perhaps tainted animals, or even perhaps darkspawn, although I am now certain – mostly certain - it is not darkspawn."

"But," Neria asked again, "what are they going to want from us?"

"Well," I added, "I'm pretty sure they're not going to want us to go into the Deep Roads."

Nobody laughed.

"But," I continued, "there are old elven ruins all over the forest. I wouldn't be surprised if we have to go crawling through one of those."

Oghren looked up. "The elves have thaigs?"

"Sort of," I answered.

"In a way," Leliana said at the same time.

I deferred to her with a nod.

"The elves built their cities on the surface, but around wood and water and, if needful, carved stone to complement those materials."

"Wood? Water? Doesn't sound very sturdy."

Sten leaned forward. "You would be impressed at what a competent crafter can construct from wood. I expect elven crafting to be enlightening."

"Really?"

"Ferelden has not failed to undermine my expectations in the past." Sten leaned back.

Beat.

"So, elven ruins?" Neria asked.

"Makes as much sense as anything," I answered.

Neria grumbled. "Room by room. Again. How many times would that be?"

"At least four."

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

We smelled the elven camp before we saw it. The well-worn not-quite-road we were following zig-zagged into a gentle depression that simultaneously protected the camp from stray breezes and trapped the odors created by scores of people and animals. I think it was smoke we smelled first; that was soon followed by something that didn't smell quite like horse crap, but, while pungent, wasn't pig shit bad. Just funky and different, although definitely not in a good way. Even Bill was twitching his nostrils, but our stoic beast of burden didn't react any further.

A quartet of guards acknowledged us as we walked into the camp. Quiet greetings were given to our escort; most of us got hostile looks, although one of the elves whistled gently at Cullen, who gave friendly _hurf_ in return.

We ambled into the camp, although it's bigger than that. Village isn't the right word although the population's easily large enough. A quick count tallied a couple hundred elves; there was probably a similar number I didn't and haven't seen.

Aravels (right?) all over the place. Cleverly engineered to look and probably act like land-capable boats. Broad, wide, sloped bottoms, high sides, and seemingly lightly built over wide-rimmed wheels. They were set in groups of mostly four or five around communal seating areas, which in turn were filled with delicately crafted low benches around similarly designed tables. And good design on those benches; stone for the supports and other spots subject to weathering and abuse, but wood whenever practical. But what surprised me were the buildings. There's not a lot of them, but they're sturdily built from, again, mostly stacked and mortared stone, and they seem to be used for storage or crafting or other things rather than living quarters. But even a cursory glance revealed people going in and out.

We walked into the camp slowly and without any fuss. But it seemed like every single elf in the place stopped to take a look at us, and I don't remember seeing a friendly face in the bunch. Plenty of suspicion, some open hostility, and a bit of curiosity. Genuine towards Sten and Oghren; guarded towards the rest of us.

We followed Limil through the camp until she found a harried-looking elven girl. Limil waved the girl down, pulled her aside, and spoke to her in whispers. The girl gave us a look and her face tightened, but she swallowed and steeled herself and bow to us.

"Greetings, Wardens, and companions. I am Lanaya, first to Keeper Zathrian."

Lanaya would have been cute if it wasn't for the same pinched and hostile expression on her face that every other elf was directing at us. But I could see the struggle on her face to treat us like guests, if unwelcome ones, and her tone, at least, was polite. But she refused to make eye contact with anyone but Neria, although, like the others, she kept stealing glances at Sten and Oghren.

"I've been instructed to make you welcome, and so you are. You may dine well and sleep safely within our camp should you so choose."

I gently bumped Neria; she'd been rubbernecking ever since we reached the camp and was more than a little distracted by the sights. Don't blame her; so was I.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I'm Neria Amell, Grey Warden. These are my companions…. And we would be happy to accept your offer."

Lanaya focused on Neria and gave her a nod. "Very well. I do have a request of you, however. Zathrian says you are most likely here to invoke the terms of an ages-old treaty. Is he correct?"

"He is."

Lanaya nodded. "I see. Very well. Limil?"

Limil spoke briefly and quietly with Lanaya then led us to a cleared area devoid of aravels and buildings "You will set your camp here. There is no need to place guards. We will provide a meal at sunset. You may move freely and speak to whom you wish, but remain distant from the durgen [elvish word]." She indicated the stone buildings.

Okay, then.

* * *

><p><strong>late evening<strong>

Dinner was a quiet affair; nobody had much to say to each other and the elves were more or less letting us be. A fiercely tattooed young woman stopped and quietly asked if we needed anything else; her tone suggested she wanted the answer to be 'No.' With that hint we didn't ask for anything else and scattered to our own devices after eating. Leliana and Neria bumped their heads together and walked away while talking seriously. Sten excused himself and found an even quieter spot in which to meditate. Cullen was romping on the far side of the camp with some children, and Zevran was attempting his own romp with (I'm assuming) the same girl he'd he'd bedded last night.

As for Oghren and Alistair…

I stayed at the table to write and keep nibbling at the culinary change of pace. Dinner was, compared to what we've been eating the last few days, exceedingly good, especially for being as exceedingly simple as it was. Some kind of vegetable stew seasoned with a bit of gamey meat, a salad of dried greens, berries, and nuts, dark sour flatbread sprinkled with coarse salt, and clear, cold water and warm, spicy (and good!) tea to wash it down. And it was all fresh. Most of it, because, well…

"Jeff! You've got to try this!" Alistair's words were slurred. "It's like drinking cheese!"

He was holding an earthen crock shaped roughly like a carafe. The container had made its way around the table; when it reached me I checked the contents and decided something that looked and smelled like rancid buttermilk wasn't going to be on the menu. My menu, that is, because Alistair ended up with the jar to himself and after an inquisitive sniff happily slurped down the contents.

I took the jar and noted the liquid was almost gone. That didn't change my opinion of the stuff.

"Come on, try it!"

"Yeah, come on, shaper!"

"Fine." I actually let the stuff touch my lips. What I licked off them was bad yogurt that might have been good with garlic and cucumber and mint but also had a definite alcoholic bite that I hadn't noticed earlier.

"Well?"

"Not really my thing."

Alistair's face clouded. "Maker, you're such an arse!"

"Don't worry about it, pike-boy; more for us!"

The cloud lifted. "Yeah!"

"Enjoy." I handed the jar back.

The cloud dropped again as Alistair didn't quite snatch it. "I will."

I lifted my hands in was supposed to be an appeasing gesture. "Hey, come on. What's wrong?"

The cloud got darker. "You know what's wrong." Alistair spun away and spun right back to me. "You were right about Eamon. And you were right about Ostagar." Alistair sighed. Then his brain twitched and he suddenly added, "That's the problem. You're right about everything. You were right about the Tower. You were right about Avernus. You were right about Denerim. You were-"

"Hey!" I interrupted. "I wasn't right about Neria."

Alistair shook a drunken finger at me. "You're right about that. But, Maker! Can't you be wrong about something?"

Beat. "You know, if it'd make you happy I'd love to be but I'd rather have you pissed off at me than get somebody killed."

He needed a few seconds to parse that. "Maker! You're right again! Gah!" He whipped around and staggered into Oghren.

"Hey! Pretty boy! Come here!"

"Not now!"

"Look what I got." Oghren waved another crock of the not-quite-yogurt.

"I'm listening."

"Come here."

Oghren waved Alistair down to his level and whispered. Well, for him it was a whisper, but all I heard were gruff-sounding words going into Alistair's ear along with some dwarf slobber.

Alistair leaned back and wiped at his ear and asked, "Really?"

"Either do it or sod off."

"Fine." Alistair swayed upright and stepped back to me. He looked back to Oghren. "Are you sure about this?"

"Sod off then!"

"Sod off yourself!" And then he punched me.

It wasn't a sucker punch; Alistair actually took the time to wind up and swing, so I saw it coming and managed to roll with it, but it was like getting hit with a steak wrapped around a two-by-four. The blow staggered me back and I ended up landing on my bum and (according to Oghren) looked really confused rather than upset about what happened.

"Oh, Maker! Jeff, I'm sorry!" Alistair shoved a hand at me.

I was clear-headed enough to grab it and let him pull me up and into a hug.

"Are you okay?"

"I...think so."

"Good. Quit being right about everything," he whispered. Not angrily, but not nicely either. Then he shoved me away, spun around, said, "You're right; I do feel better," and staggered off.

"Hey! Pretty boy! You forgot this."

Alistair did a one-eighty, grabbed the crock, did another one-eighty, and staggered off again.

I rubbed my jaw and gave Oghren an evil eye. "Was that really necessary?"

Oghren shrugged and emptied his flask into another crock. "I don't know, but pretty boy feels better now." He swirled the crock, sniffed it, and swirled it again. "Heh. Probably better than you." Snort. "At least till he tells Red what he did."

* * *

><p><strong>3 Haring, morning<strong>

I felt rather than heard Alistair come up behind, but didn't acknowledge him. Not because I was pissed about last night, or because I was trying to be rude or anything, but because this heightened awareness of each other caused Neria, Alistair, and I to come to a gentlepersons' agreement about it.

"Uh..."

So now I did acknowledge Alistair. "What's up?" I levered myself up and faced him.

He was holding a crock of the elves' yogurt/buttermilk/liquid cheese/fermented halla dairy product and looking really sheepish. It's not alcoholic, though; apparently Oghren had spiked the one he was drinking last night. Then Alistair got hold of it. "Maker, Jeff, I'm so sorry about last night."

I took a closer look. Alistair did look sorry, but there was a bit of defiance in his eyes. And his posture was one of a kid being forced to do something he doesn't want to do by a parent who knows he needs to do it.

So I gave my standard answer. "Thanks, but you don't sound sorry."

Alistair flinched. He broke eye contact and looked around guiltily. "I'm...not...really...but..."

"Leliana?"

"Leliana."

"Thought so."

"She's right, I shouldn't have hit you. But...I don't know."

I shrugged. "You still mad at me?"

"I shouldn't be, but...Maker, you're..." Alistair broke off with a heavy sigh.

I sighed right back and waited a beat. "So, you still mad at me?"

"I don't know."

"Fair enough." A little idea dinged into my head. I looked around the camp/town; the elves were mostly up and busy, so what I had in mind shouldn't disturb anyone. "Wanna give our hosts a show?"

Alistair's face registered a question mark.

"Gear up and we'll have a beatdown. Wooden blades, of course."

Alistair smiled. Evilly. Well, evilly for him. "I think I'd like that."

"Thought you would."

"See you shortly." Alistair turned away as he took a hit from the crock.

"Hey. Is that stuff really that good?"

Alistair turned back around, a beatific smile on his face. "It's amazing! I could live off this."

I snickered. "Yeah, and Leliana'll have you sleeping outside the tent. Downwind."

The smile disappeared. "She made me sleep outside last night."

I winced. "Sorry. Really."

"See you shortly."

* * *

><p><strong>noon<strong>

Neria poked a bruise (hard), seemed satisfied by my flinch, then shot a burst of healing energy into it. "Well, at least you two didn't _try_ to kill each other this time." Her voice was quiet but serious.

I looked over to where Alistair was gently scratching at a patch of freshly healed skin on his forehead. I hadn't done it; one of the elves had. Alistair and I had gone at each other (hard), but he didn't have the cold intensity that he'd seemed to have the first time. Then again, while I'm nowhere near his level, I'm a lot more proficient than I used to be, and was able to go one-on-one with him. I still lost more rounds than I won, but compared to months (!) ago I've seen a statistically significant increase in my win percentage. And when we were finished Alistair gave me a sharp nod and a fist bump.

Then Neria asked the gripping hand question. "So what's going on with him?"

Shrug. "My best guess: whatever Flemeth said." Thoughts bubbled up. Hooking up with Leliana. Eamon dying. All the other crap we've been through. "You'll have to ask him."

"Maybe later." She patted me on the shoulder and raised her voice. "At least you both still have all your arms and legs."

Alistair looked up from his gear. "Here now! We're not savages! We save the ritual dismemberments for Second Day."

The quip gave me a little spark of smart-assedness. "It is difficult at times," I added in my best John Cleese accent (which is still horrible), "but we do try to remain civilised."

Neria shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oy. Maybe I should help Miren."

Miren's a young, blonde (elven) man acting as an apprentice to Lanaya. He's involved in this because the elves got involved in the sparring session. Not to break us up, but rather to take a chance to test themselves "standing against the Templars." No problem. So we took on some elves. Heavily armored (at least for elves) with some chain mail and wooden bucklers. One at a time to start, but neither Alistair nor I had much trouble with a single opponent. Of course, the elves are quick and can choose whether or not to actually engage, but if they do... Well, that's why they need a healer right now. We finished the exercise with a last-stand match; Alistair and I stood back-to-back and held out as long as we could. And that was until Alistair took that shot to the forehead.

One of the elves had bowed to me right after that. "Well done, shemlen."

I bowed back. "Thanks, and you did good, too."

"Not well enough. But that is why we choose not fight Templars to their face." He motioned towards a set of targets being enthusiastically filled with arrows. He bowed again and walked away.

I got the point.

* * *

><p><strong>afternoon<strong>

Zathrian has a timeless appearance. He's a bit taller than the other elves, but only by an inch or so. His eyes look _old_, but except for a few laugh lines his face isn't showing it. Of course, the wrinkles could be hidden under the tattoos; there's a stylized gray tree etched from his nose up onto his forehead, and branches swirl around his eyes. A pair of symmetrical waves curl up and down as they trace a line from the corner of his mouth to his earlobes and disappear into an intricate spiral. And there's no telling if he's gray-haired or not; the guy is completely bald, down to a lack of eyebrows. His body doesn't give anything away either; he's as slender and fit-looking as any other random elf, and any hint of weakness is concealed beneath worn but still serviceable leathers.

Lanaya was there as well. I think she was going for a formal look, but that was undermined by her lack of poise. Her face was scrubbed, her very light brown hair was tied into some elaborate braids and the leathers she'd worn to initially greet us were replaced by what looked like Tevinter mage robes. She didn't really come across as authoritative. I mean, she looked good, but it was almost like she was playing dress up, and seemed embarrassed by simply being there. She just looked completely uncomfortable in her skin. I totally understand; I always hated putting on my Class A uniform for VIPs.

Zathrian, OTOH, radiated confidence.

He took us in slowly with a calm, palpable gaze. When it fell across me I resisted the urge to step back. But the eyes didn't linger; they kept going, and after examining each of us the elf spoke. "I am Zathrian, Keeper of this clan. I guide and protect its people, and preserve its ancient lore. I was brought word of you and asked that you be allowed here. Welcome."

Neria bowed. Deeply. "I am Neria, Keeper, and am honored to meet you, and thank you for meeting us."

Zathrian smiled briefly. "Manners. From a – a human. I thank you."

Neria nodded. "These are my companions-"

"By the Stone! A _living_ Ancestor!" Oghren dropped to his knees so hard it made mine hurt. "Keeper, you do us honor with your presence. I'm Oghren, warrior, at your service."

Zathrian's smile turned indulgent. "Your service may be needed, durgenlen. But please, stand."

Alistair spoke in a stage whisper. "Troubles of their own. What are the odds?"

"Shh!" Leliana hissed.

Zathrian didn't seem annoyed, but he's got a solid poker face. "I assume you are bringing word of the Blight. Yes, I had sensed the corruption growing in the south, and had begun to take steps to combat it. But now I fear I will be unable to honor the treaty we signed with the Grey Wardens. Please, follow me, and I will explain."

He led us to one of the stone buildings. As we approached we could hear moaning and urgent whispers from inside and got to watch a boy quickly carry out what looked like a chamber pot. And then Zathrian stood aside and motioned for us to enter the field hospital.

It was surprisingly modern. Lots of patients, but tucked into clean pallets and fresh bedding. No bad smells. If anything, the place was clean and warm and airy. A pot of something was simmering and giving off a fresh herbal smell. There were even hanging plants and vines creeping around and covering the walls.

But despite the good care the patients were suffering. I couldn't see the wounds; they were cleanly bandaged, but there were plenty of bruises and scrapes on display. The worst cases were somehow sedated, but there were still quiet groans coming from them. Miren was moving about, checking on the sick, but apparently having little effect beyond helping keep the elves as comfortable as he could.

Neria opened her mouth.

"There is nothing you can do," Zathrian said firmly. "The disease is immune to healing magics. Our hunters are bitten, become afflicted, sicken, and die. Or, worse, transform into something monstrous."

So, plot and exposition for an afternoon snack. Of course, we had the usual questions for Zathrian:

Haven't you tried to track them down? "I have sent our hunters into the forest. Few have returned unharmed. Others have not returned at all."

Other clans can't help? "I would not weaken other clans in the face of the Blight. And they would rightly ask why this clan doesn't fight. And I doubt other clans would have any more success than this one has had."

And your hunters can't track them? "The werewolves know paths our feet do not. And the paths we do know are blocked. And even if our hunters could find them they simply can't stand against them. As you showed this morning, you can."

Sigh. So what do you want us to do? "Bring me the heart of the white wolf known as Witherfang. With that in hand I should be able to lift the curse."

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

"Wow," I said without absolutely no heat or sarcasm, "do you think he could have fed us any more bullshit?"

"I," said Alistair, "feel like a mushroom."

I gave him a nod of approval for the quip. He acknowledged that with a sardonic tilt of his head.

Zevran leaned casually against a tree and looked around even more casually before speaking. ""Bluntly said, but accurate, mio amico. I too feel there is much he is not telling us."

Oghren snorted. "You think so? Ancestor or no, he sounded like a deshyr hiring a duster for some dirt work."

"A game of a different sort, though," Leliana mused.

"No," I said. "No game. He knows what's going on, and I'm positive he knows why it's going on."

That got me a lot of stares.

Leliana got a ding look. "Merde." She gave Neria a sharp look. "He will trust us to keep the secrets he is hiding."

Oghren snorted. "Or blame us when things go really wrong. First Paragons and now Ancestors. Rutting [dwarvish]…."

"Let us not tip our hand until we know more." Leliana's poker face was back.

"And that can wait until at least after our supper," Zevran added. He nodded towards a few elves headed our way. "So, capo bella, what is our course?"

Neria looked at me then the rest of the bunch. "Do we have a choice?"

"Probably not," I answered.

"We need the elves," Alistair added.

"Sodding [dwarvish]."

"We'll need to watch our backs," I added.

"Like we did with Branka?" Neria asked.

"Exactly like we did with Branka."

"I suggest we stand our own watch this evening." Sten shrugged. "Discreetly, of course."

Neria nodded. "Good idea. Now let's eat."

* * *

><p><strong>Late evening<strong>

Neria and I are standing watch right now, but in the guise of just sitting at the dinner table and talking. We'd dug out the chess board and started a game, but got distracted when she asked the obvious question.

"Are you sure about Zathrian?"

I moved as I answered. "Positive."

"I'm thinking we should just walk away, but…." Neria just stared at the board. "I don't even know what to do. I mean, Alistair's right: we need the elves, but if we don't help them will they even help us?"

"I really don't know. Maybe? We might – _might _– be able to convince some other clans to help us." I started thinking out loud. "If we show them the treaty and tell them about Zathrian refusing to help. If we can convince them that making their own decision is more important than listening to Zathrian. If we can come up with some sort of incentive for them to do that. Maybe explain how important it would be to honor the treaty. And that's if they listen to us and don't just send us back to Zathrian."

"That's a lot of 'ifs'."

"Yeah."

"So we have to deal with Zathrian."

"Maybe, yeah; maybe no. But maybe I can talk to him to tomorrow. He might listen to me." And I'm thinking he'd better.

"Why would he?"

Shrug. "Because we're both old?"

Neria act

Cullen just went on full alert. Gotta go

* * *

><p><em>AN: aaaaand I'm back from the **DA:I** hiatus. I sunk over 130 hours into just my first play-through with a female elf mage (die roll to determine all three). The game is heavily influenced by Skyrim and World of Warcraft, but, at its heart, is clearly Dragon Age. The 130 hours was me trying for a (but not getting) a 100% completion, but I'm pretty sure I only got to about 90+%. (You could certainly complete the main story in about 50 hours if you work at it, but you'll miss a lot of content.) And I'm embarrassed to even think about how much more time I've sunk into others play-throughs, complete and otherwise. And Beta Reader's sunk twice the time I have. Overall, it's a solidly good game that dives deep into the Dragon Age lore. So deep, in fact, that it made me go 'Whoa!' at the ending, and then go back and take a look at some stuff from **DA:O** and **DA2** with everything I just learned in mind._

_8/10, would play again. Wait, I already did._

* * *

><p><em>This chapter has been super difficult to write. The overall ideas were in place, but I wasn't satisfied with the details, so I've done two complete rewrites. And the rewrites forced me to look at the outline I have for the remaining story.<em>

_I think the problem is that, aside from being forced to by the game, there's no really good reason for the Warden to take Zathrian's quest. Like Jeff said, the Warden's best course of action would probably be to walk away and talk with some other clans._

_Let's see if that happens._


	93. And Back On

**4 Haring, late morning**

Video games, no matter how wide open, no matter how sandboxed, no matter how non-linear, are, by necessity, forced to railroad their players. Sometimes this is subtle. GTA, for example, lets you run around and do pretty much anything you want, but at a certain point (provided, of course, you want to finish the game) you have to complete a mission to advance the plot, but the mission can (usually) be completed in any manner of your choosing.

DA, OTOH, claims to be open world, but in reality (snort) you have to pass through three checkpoints in order to advance the main plot. Of course, you can take your time getting to these points, but after a while there's literally nothing else you can do except get back to the main quest line. Yes, there is _some_ freedom in how you can complete those checkpoints, but it still comes down to "Do this, do that, do the other, and then you can finish things up."

But here and now there're no limits. We've decided to tell Zathrian to piss off and go find some other clans and explain things to them. We've got a trump card here; if we need to we can throw Alistair's status at them. "Just think how your actions would be perceived. 'Willing to help when other clans wouldn't.'"

And then there's the gripping hand.

When Cullen jumped up and started growling that was all the warning Neria and I needed. We were up and moving in seconds with staff, shield, and sword all ready. Cullen was tracking something outside our view range but near our tents when there was a shout in elvish from their side of the camp. That was followed by a medium-pitched _yipe _that triggered a series of deep, growling barks, including one right in front of me.

Neria reacted beautifully. She sent a flare up over the tents; the light caught some large, hairy, ropy thing dodging back into the shadows. Cullen took off growling like a chainsaw; I went right behind him, watching where he was looking but not seeing anything.

At least until Cullen's head jerked to our left. I don't know if it was instinct, reflexes, or just luck, but I'd started looking out to my left just an instant before, and that's what saved me. There was enough light to see a set of impossibly bright teeth coming at me. I spun and got my shield up and my shoulder down and hit the werewolf like a fullback (football, not soccer). We both grunted from the impact and came to a stop. Then Cullen zipped in and chomped the thing on the leg. The werewolf yipped and tried to spin; I saw my opening, heard the hiss of a fireball, and got blindsided.

I went down hard with the first werewolf rolling on top of me. I managed to punch it in the chest, but it ended on top of me and its jaws opened and its teeth came down and I let out some choice swears as I received multiple puncture wounds in my shoulder.

The werewolf reacted too. It's head came up and I swear it looked confused. "Nononell," it growl-moaned.

"Sonofabitch!" I added. My shoulder really hurt.

And then the werewolf kicked itself off me; another fireball hissed just over me. I had enough anger pushing through that I was ready to give a doggie beatdown to whatever got in my way, but the werewolf was moving a lot faster than I'd ever be able to. It barked at its partner and the two creatures took off into the darkness with Cullen right behind them.

Neria ran up behind me. "Cullen, no!"

The dog's whine was full of disappointment as he turned around.

"Are you okay?"

"No," I grunted.

"Let me see." Neria started investigating the wound. "It's messy, but-"

"Ow!"

"-it's not really bad. Here." Healing energy started flowing.

I sighed with relief and gave Cullen an evil eye. "This wouldn't be necessary if somebody'd remembered to watch my back."

The dog gave the canine equivalent of a shrug. "Hur yurf."

* * *

><p>So, all good. Right?<p>

We did a quick head count after the fight. Nobody else had even made it out of their tents before the werewolves retreated, but when they did pop out everybody was there and unhurt. With one exception.

"Cullen, go find Zevran."

"Hoof!"

Our friendly neighborhood assassin had disappeared into the elves' area early in the evening for obvious reasons. But even with not knowing where he was bedding down and the kicked anthill nature of the camp Cullen had zero troubles leading us right to Zevran. He and the elf he'd hooked up with earlier were sitting next to each other; she was leaning over Zevran's arm.

I had a pretty good idea of what the problem was. "Oh, crap," was all I said.

Neria hustled over and took a look and had a few choice words of her own. She (pretty roughly) pushed the elf away and leaned over Zevran. Her staff flared up and we got a good look at his arm. Zevran's leathers were ripped apart and there was plenty of blood, but there was such a mess it was hard see where the wounds were. Neria dived in, though, and hit Zevran with some healing energy.

Zevran visibly relaxed but winced as Neria kept handling his arm. "I believe I'm still injured, mio capo."

"I can't see anything, but-"

"Just a minute." I pulled out my knife and (carefully) cut away the ragged leather.

Zevran's lady friend dumped some kind of liquid on his bloody forearm; Zevran wiped away the excess blood. Neria's light revealed some pale, freshly healed scars along with two parallel sets of gently bleeding bite marks in the meaty (well, as meaty as Zevran gets) part of his forearm.

Neria's hand glowed and she placed it directly over the bites. Zevran winced at the pressure but remained stoic. Neria concentrated, looked confused, concentrated again, and lifted her hand. The untouched bite marks were still there.

"Oh, crap."

* * *

><p>"It appears the issue has just become rather…personal."<p>

Zathrian's face was rock steady but his smug tone made me want to punch his teeth in. Neria had the same reaction and that was only thing that kept me from hitting Zathrian. I saw her fist clench so I reached out and grabbed her arm. She turned to look at Sten; he'd moved before I did.

"That would be ill-advised," he rumbled even more impassively than usual. To the elves he probably sounded calm; to us he was supremely pissed.

Neria's answer was interrupted by the sound of two steaks slapping together. Alistair was shaking his hand and standing a bit too close to Zathrian.

Alistair shrugged. "You weren't going let her do it, so I thought…." He looked around at the elves. "Totally worth it, though."

Zathrian was sitting on the ground rubbing his cheek and jaw and looking as impassive as Sten. The Dalish snapped to; swords, knives, and bows appeared. Even Lanaya's staff was glowing. I was positive we were dead.

"Hold!" Zathrian snapped.

Nobody relaxed, but my lifespan estimate went way up.

"See they're adequately supplied," Zathrian continued. "And once they are, see them on their way."

"Where?" Neria asked. She jerked her arms. "Let me go!"

Zathrian considered the question then nodded. "I'll see that you are guided."

* * *

><p>"So what are you writing about now? Never mind. I don't wanna mix up the memories."<p>

I closed the journal. "Don't worry about it; I'm just trying to explain why we're out here looking for a werewolf den."

Oghren snorted and tipped off his helmet. "Cause that elf shaper set us up. Rutting bastard."

"I knew that, but…." I shook my head and snapped the book shut.

Everybody looked up at that but went back to their break.

Another snort. "You're looking pretty chaffed. Baldy get your stones?"

My turn to snort. "Yeah. I'm just pissed off about having to go do Zathrian's dirty work for him. If it wasn't for Zevran we'd bouncing around looking for different elves to recruit and Zathrian can…" Shrug.

"Go sod off?"

"Exactly."

Oghren nodded and took a flask hit. "Can't say that I disagree, Shaper, but haven't you lot been doing everybody's dirty work since this whole mess started?"

I laugh-grimaced. "Yeah."

"Then what's one more bit of dirty work?" He offered me the flask.

I declined with a head shake. "Good point, but I was hoping we'd be on the way to Denerim by now."

"So was I; I mean, I wanna see it."

"See what?"

"A topsider city! The topsider city! The one we all hear about. Now that'll be a shiny sight!" Oghren got a thoughtful (for him) expression. "But you know what? An elf thaig'll be a sight, too. And if we can cure our comely elf lass-"

"Lad, mio amico!"

"Sod off, you skinny rutter! Well, at least we're not down in the Roads with blighters crawling out of the walls."

I just nodded.

Oghren plopped his helmet on and his voice rang hollowly. "Well come on, then! Finish scratching out the memories and let's go see something new." He turned around and clanked away. "Missy! We gonna get moving?"

Oghren's got a point, but like I said I while back: I'm tired, and I'd thought we'd had a way to avoid this. Yeah, I had a scare when I was bit, but I thought we were good to go after Neria healed me. But then Zevran

Gorram railroading verse.

* * *

><p><strong>evening<strong>

"Zevran," I said quietly, "none of us would have blamed you if you'd stayed behind."

Shrug. Fatalistic, it appeared. "True, but I've never been one to simply await my fate. And the elves…well, they mostly didn't think well of me. Their hospitality would have been forced. With one exception, of course." Sly grin.

I gave him a rueful smile in return. "I understand. But if you think you can't hang let us know."

"Certainly, mio amico."

"And if you start really hurting we'll try to figure something out."

"Not to worry. I have already considered that possibility." Zevran reached into a pouch and pulled out a small glass vial. The stopper was tied in place with a bit of grimy ribbon.

"Is that-?"

"Si." Another shrug, but this one definitely fatalistic. "I hope to not require it."

I thought about the implications of that vial. "Where…?"

"It's the dregs of the veleno we made in the Deep Roads." Yet another shrug. "It was nearly yours."

I thought a bit harder about the implications. "Um, thanks, and I mean it. I think."

"You are welcome, mio amico. Let us hope it's not mine, either."

* * *

><p><strong>5 Haring, morning<strong>

I was doing my daily routine when I heard heavy footsteps and Sten's voice. It wasn't loud enough to make out, so I kept going. But when I finished my last sit up (no stopping!) and looked left I saw Cammen watching me quietly.

Actually, let's back up. That guide Zathrian said we'd get? We got a fresh-faced (even for an elf), skinny (even for an elf), little (even for an elf) elf kid who knows his way around pretty well but may or may not do well in a fight. He makes about as much noise moving around as you'd expect a rabbit to, and but at least he's not as twitchy as you'd expect a rabbit to be. Although last night we saw some cracks as he sat and listened to us bug-eyed while we sat around and back-briefed him on some of the problems we've faced.

Sigh. I shouldn't be so hard on him; he's been thrown into the deep end and it's mostly our fault. Besides, how long did it take me to get out of the deep end? If I'm even out. Anyway...

"Sten requested I not disturb your meditation, but if I may now have your time?"

I'd already given him the answer about my glasses so I just shrugged and crawled to my feet. "Go ahead."

"How is it you convinced Neria to bond with you?"

Huh? "Huh?"

"You and Neria have bonded each other, have you not?"

I'm thinking my face should have gone hot, but it didn't. "Uh..."

Cammen tilted his head. "She speaks at length only to you and the dwarf, but she speaks warmly to you, and confides in you before the others."

"Uh..."

"How did you convince her to-"

Head shake. "I didn't. And we're not. The relationship is, well, professional, or at least as professional as it can be." I wasn't about to talk about the dips into unprofessionalism.

Cammen's head tilted further. "'Professional'?"

"We're Grey Wardens, and we're working, or at least trying to work, to stop the Blight. And that's it."

The kid dropped eye contact and actually started blushing. "I have offended."

I really felt like I should be blushing but I wasn't. "No, you haven't."

"Then, another question if you will?"

"Sure."

"There's a woman in my clan…."

I dinged as I suddenly realized who the kid is. So I stood there, impatiently, while Cammen explained the girl problem.

"…so how do I go about convincing Gaina [sp!] to bond me?"

Head shake. "I am probably the last person you should be asking that question to." But I did think about it for a minute. Sigh "Here goes. Be yourself. And that's it."

Cammen gave me a look of frustrated hopelessness. "I don't understand."

"Fair enough. Look, she wants you to be a hunter before she'll bond with you, right? So that means she already likes you enough to bond with you."

"But if I don't become a full hunter she'll never..."

"Ah." My voice went clinical as I pulled out my best Attenborough. "The young elf finds his bonding opportunity impeded by his failure to fulfill cultural and societal norms."

Cammen just looked confused.

I brought my voice back to normal. "If you don't become a hunter then Gaina won't give you another look, right?"

"Right."

"Doesn't matter. If she likes you, and I mean really likes you, then the fact that you're at least trying'll be good enough for her. If she doesn't like you enough then nothing you do will be good enough. If she's just willing-" I cut myself off; I didn't want to go down a road full of ifs and maybes.

"But-"

"Be. Yourself."

"I can't be anybody else."

"You can pretend to be something you aren't, but that'll just eat you up inside. And if she needs you to do that then she doesn't really want you and you're probably better off without her."

I got a look of freaked out skepticism in return.

I shrugged. "Go ask Leliana why she's with Alistair. I'm pretty sure it's not because he's good at hacking up darkspawn. Well, just hacking up darkspawn."

The skepticism is strong with this one. "I'll...do that. Thank you. I guess."

"No problem."

The elf turned away and I noticed something.

"Hey, Cammen, is that one of Leliana's arrows? That she got from Caridin?"

He looked a little sheepish but answered confidently. "I expressed an admiration for it during the stories last night. She was kind enough to gift it to me."

"Nice of her."

Nod. "It was."

That brought back a flood of memories that ended with a ding. "Cammen. I have a question for you."

He turned around and nodded. "You may ask."

"What are you going to do when you find out Zathrian's causing all this trouble?"

Cammen looked confused. "I don't understand. How could Zathrian be causing this?"

"Doesn't matter. What does matter is there's a lot he didn't tell us, that he's tied into the whole mess, and we're all pretty sure he didn't guard our side of the camp so someone would end up getting bit and clean it up for him."

Cammen's face set like concrete. "Zathrian would never do that."

That was the answer I was expecting. "Tell you what: remember what Oghren said about Branka destroying her house?"

"Yes."

"Go talk to him about that some more then come back and tell me what Zathrian would and wouldn't do."

* * *

><p><strong>Evening<strong>

Leliana gave me a skeptical eye. "Are you certain this will work?"

I gave her a skeptical eye right back. "Nope. But it's worth a shot, a think."

I eased a crossbow bolt out of the super-solution it had been dipped in and set it next to the other nine bolts drying next to the fire. The first couple I'd taken out were crusted with a thin layer of salt. Leliana had a handful of arrows looking the same way. So did Cammen, but he'd listened and watched and worked in silence and just drank in our crazy until there was too much and he had to get away.

"Look," I continued, "ruins, right? And Cammen says they're supposed to be haunted, and I've heard ghosts don't like salt. So, salt arrows." At least until I can get a shotgun. If this even works here.

Red shook her head. "I have never heard that, but in this at least there is no harm in trying." She nodded towards the edge of camp. A young elf was sitting there staring a hole into the ground. "Now if we could only convince Cammen. And not only of that."

Sigh. "He'll come around. Eventually. One way or the other."

* * *

><p><strong>late evening<strong>

Cullen went on alert again a little while ago. There was no hesitation on anybody's part this time, especially Neria. She sent a flare out in the direction Cullen was alerted and we got immediately got eyes on the bad guys. Except calling them bad guys isn't really the right thing to do; these were wolves. Black (or at least dark gray) with shining eyes that reflected the flare warmly.

That lasted only for a second. Once illuminated the wolves spun about as one and disappeared into the darkness, showing thin and definitely normal canine flanks and tails.

A bowstring _thrummed_ and Cammen snapped something in elvish. He ran towards where we'd last seen the wolves, but Neria moved just as fast and caught him as he was reloading.

"No!" she snapped. "We stay together."

"But Warden, I know these woods."

"No." The word was firm.

"But Warden, I need-"

"I understand, but no one goes off alone."

"But-"

"Mission. First."

Beat. "Yes, Warden."

"Maybe on the way back. For now, get some sleep."

"Yes, Warden."

* * *

><p><strong>6 Haring, morning<strong>

I shivered in the cold, still darkness of the plant-place and waited for the master to release me. But the wait was tolerable; the plant-place wasn't drafty like other places outside the caves, and there was food here. I snatched at a tiny moving creature and shoved it into my mouth. It wriggled for the heartbeat before I crunched on its little bones and tasted its salty blood.

Satisfying.

But not as satisfying as the small others I could smell beneath the smoke from the fire they slept about. Slender, and stringy, and fragile, but oh so _very_ satisfying. The anticipation of having them nearly overrode the master's command, but I settled back down on my haunches and waited as if I'd been pushed into place. Which, in a way, I was.

I waited, sniffing their scent, as my brothers moved into place, careful to do so quietly, and careful to stay in the drifting smoke. _Good_, I felt wordlessly, _now be ready._ I eased forward and tensed; the command would come and

I leapt forward with my brothers, sword raised, a silent snarl turning into a hungry growl. The small others were only footsteps away and would soon be ours. But their wrappings were thrown off and a light seared my eyes and I stumbled as my sight failed. A small other shouted, a brother screamed, another brother screamed, then I screamed in pain and anger and hungry frustration as my heart caught fire and I sat up fast in my bedroll panting with my own heart trying to hop out of my ribcage.

A dark figure knelt down beside me. "Darkspawn dream?"

"Yeah, but not as bad as it could be. I'm okay."

Alistair patted my shoulder. "Good." The word was sharp but the sentiment seemed genuine.

He stood up and turned away and went to check on Neria.

I thought about the dream for a few minutes and came to the logical conclusion. They may not be formally allied with us (yet), but the elves are doing their part.

* * *

><p><strong>late morning<strong>

Zevran's starting to hurt. He'll never admit it to anyone, but his movements aren't as smooth as they should be, and I've seen him quietly ask Neria for a couple of shots of – well, not healing, but that energy boosting thing that she does, and she's given him a cup of the strong tea that's the local equivalent of naprosyn.

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

So Zevran's sitting and drinking, most of the rest of us are just taking a break and having a snack, and the last two are having a conversation that's making my head want to asplode. We've stopped at what should be a nice place for a picnic: a strip of land that separates a couple of streams that meander more or less parallel to each other as far as we're able to see in each direction.

But Cammen's looking nervous. "I don't know the forest beyond this point."

Sten gave the kid a rare compliment. "You have proved an able guide so far."

"Yes, but except for a handful none of my clan have been beyond the ford. Zathrian forbade us from crossing the streams."

It was at that point my processor bogged down under the load.

Sten, of course, didn't get it. "Why was this?"

Cammen just shook his head. "I don't know, but I was told it would be bad."

My processor went from bogged to not responding.

Sten kept going. "'Bad'? What do you mean, 'bad'?"

The conversation took a decidedly less surreal route with Cammen's next answer. "The forest is old, and there are things stranger than werewolves about."

"Such as?"

"I am told the trees…walk."

"I see. Have you told the Warden of this?"

"Yes."

"And other dangers?"

"Of course…."

I blinked slowly as I came back online and let Cammen and Sten finish their conversation then tried to get things down. (And that's why there's a big ink stain up there.) I mean, I guess I should have expected something like this when I saw the streams, but

I don't know. Stuff like this keeps popping up and poking me in the soft spots of my sanity and making me wonder exactly what is going on.

Sigh.

Neria just called for us to move out. Nothing else to say right now except see you on the other side.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Phoenix Comicon again! Yay! Three and a half days of nerdgasming are planned, although an issue at work might cause me to lose a day. Ah, well._

_As always, I'd like thank those of you out there who are reading and (hopefully) enjoying MoN, and hope the patience you exhibited while waiting for this chapter hasn't been worn too thin._


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